Sword and Shield
by FeeBe
Summary: Percival Graves, hanging in between life and death, is visited by two Beings who grant him a second chance. He accepts and is thrown forwards in time in his fifteen-year-old body where he finds himself in a park with the sky darkening and the temperature plummeting…. Adopted work from tori cat13. Slash. Not for Hermione/Dumbledore fans. Sequel started
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Percival Graves, hanging in between life and death, is visited by two Beings who grant him a second chance. A chance to help save and change the Wizarding World. He accepts and is thrown forwards in time in his fifteen-year-old body where he finds himself in a park with the sky darkening and the temperature plummeting….

Notes: so this is an adopted work by tori_cat13 on Archive of Our Own. Which was abandoned with a note at the end that it was available to adopt. I really liked what she had done so apart from editing the first 4.5 chapters are hers. Hopefully she likes what I have done to it, and I haven't butchered it too badly.

: Please note this is AU. This means some of the characters will be a bit OOC, primarily because I am not JK Rowling.

: Warning- Pre-slash.

: edited 30/03/2020

Percival Graves knew he was, for all intents and purposes, dead. D.E.A.D, Dead. That is to say he would shortly be deceased. An ex-human being. In but a matter of moments, he would kick the proverbial bucket, shuffle of this mortal coil and simply cease to be. It had been weeks since Grindelwald had come to taunt him or feed him for that matter. Say what you would about the bastard, he took his villainy seriously. Hell, Percival was sure, that hideous moustache of his was grown just so he could twirl it and surely, he had charmed his bi-coloured eyes for a more sinister appearance. Still the man was surprisingly conscientious about the whole 'keeping his prisoners fed regularly' thing. Of course, to fit in with the ' evil Dark Lord' persona, those meals were watery gruel and stale bread, but Graves had passed beyond the point of caring after a few days. In fact, right now, he would have actually really liked some.

And that was the whole point really, Grindelwald had not shown up for… Graves actually didn't know for sure how long it had been (somewhere along the line he had lost the small stick he had been using to engrave lines in the stone floor with and he was usually so good at keeping track of things), measuring time had become rather meaningless once his life had descended into an endless cycle of: sitting in the dark, rounds of torture, villainous speeches (wizards finally taking their rightful place yaddah, yaddah, yaddah; muggles doing their bidding, blah,blah,blah), and food being delivered.

But back to the point, Percival knew that he was dying. He could no longer feel his limbs, he was more distractible, and his mind felt hazier than normal, - or at least, what passed as normal these days. At this point he held out little hope of anyone finding him, or even recognising that he had been replaced. It was a bit sad really, Picquery hadn't even noticed! (So Grindlewald had said the last time he had visited, the bastard seemed rather smug about it to be honest) For Merlin's sake he worked with her every day! Three years ago, they had even dated briefly, before he had been offered his current position. The couple of lack lustre meals and trip to the museum just didn't seem enough to turn down his dream job for. Picquery had agreed that they worked better as friends. In hindsight his habit of isolating himself and being married to his job hadn't done him any favours, if a miracle happened and he did happen to get out of this hell hole, he would have to change that.

Unexpectedly the door opened, flooding the small cell with light and making him turn away with an arm thrown across his face to protect his vision. His heart echoed in his ears. Had they finally found him? By the time his eyes had adjusted two figures had stepped into the cell, wearing matching expressions of disdain at the filth and smells. Perhaps it was another level of torture, his traitorous mind whispered as his heart went still.

"Dear me, how do you manage to live in this squalor?" the male said with a sniff. He was rather short, had messy black hair and green eyes. "Then again, I suppose you don't; that is after all the reason we are here."

"You and your gallows humour," the female sighed. She had brilliant red hair and eyes the exact same shade as the male. "And please stop wearing that face, with what we have planned it will make it very uncomfortable for him."

"But I like this face!" the other whinged (No, he did not! He was entirely to dignified to do such a thing). "This one is so much better than my Dementor-esque form. Or that one where I look like a gaunt corpse walking around in the swirling black robes, though I do rather like the scythe."

"I don't care, take it off."

He pouted before his features shifted to that of a middle-aged man with sandy brown hair which swept back from his face and reached to his shoulders, curling at the ends. He now wore a black turtle neck shirt with a black blazer. "There. Are you happy now?"

Graves finally found his voice, even if it was raspy with disuse and broken from far too much screaming. "What are you? What do you want with me?"

The female tilted her head as she examined him and hummed, "Well now this just won't do."

Suddenly Graves found himself levitated off the floor and lowered delicately into a seat set at a table. With a nonchalant wave of the male's hand the table was laden with a veritable feast and the being immediately helped himself to a slice of pizza. A goblet filled itself with water and a plate appeared in front of the prisoner, holding a plain bread roll, an apple and a small bowl of a thin soup. Graves eyed it warily.

"Percival, honey, we swear that none of this food or drink will be harmful to you," the female reassured.

Percival was a bit surprised to feel magic wrap around him in response to such an unspecified oath but relaxed slightly just the same. It had been so long since he had last eaten. Picking up his spoon he asked, "So what do you want with me? It's unlikely that you just stumbled across me and decided to feed me."

The male paused in the middle of the burger he was now consuming, to point a greasy finger at the man in front of him. "As I am sure you have realised, you were in the process of dying, but you were not yet dead. Not quite. You only had one foot in the graves as it were, pun inten-dead," he smirked and waggled his eyebrows, the woman looked like she would very much like to hit him. "The moment you commenced dying you crossed the boundary into my realm which, fortunately for you, leaves you under my jurisdiction and therefore I can…. well to be honest, I can do whatever the hell I like with you really," he grinned, plucking a handful of hot chips off a plate and dunking them in sauce.

"Your...realm?" Percival placed his spoon down beside his plate, his appetite had disappeared.

"We are what you would call Gods," the female said plainly. "Generally speaking, we manipulate the worlds around us as we see fit and this provides us with endless millennia of entertainment. It also works as a sort of diversional therapy. Sometimes we get bored and mess with things just to see what will happen; Fate more so than the rest of us. Really has a short attention span that one. We all have our favourites of course. The ones we like to play with the most. Death's for instance, is the one whose form he was wearing earlier. I myself have selected a few out of those who honour me. The form I am wearing belongs to one of them, a woman by the name of Lily Potter, and interestingly enough related to Death's favourite. We have Fate to thank for that, as usual! Even with Lily's non magical upbringing she strove to learn all she could of my gifts. She was so dedicated that she even studied things that the government of the time had deemed to be illegal. It was this knowledge combined with my blessing that allowed her to save her son at the cost of her own life."

"It took my blessing as well, I'd remind you. Her son is my favoured," Death cut in, picking up a hotdog. "You have to realise that there isn't just one world that wouldn't be anywhere near enough to keep us occupied. There is actually a vast multi-verse of infinite possibilities: each decision branches off into its own little universe and those spawn yet more. In fact, in one we wouldn't be having this conversation at all because you were rescued 2 days into your confinement by your long-term partner, Alfred Biffle. Apparently…." Death looked around gleefully, "He was the secret head of a muggle crime syndicate. Came in while Grindlewald was torturing you one day and filled him full of lead."

Percival's brain froze, Alfred Biffle! The 93-year-old janitor at MACUSA, who always appeared to be covered in scale rot!

His shock was interrupted by Death clearing his throat, "But I digress. Regardless of the universe, my favoured has always managed to unite my Hallows. You know of my Hallows right? Like the story, there was once three brothers….." he waited for Graves to nod before he continued. "Of course, only one of them has the full powers of the Master of Death. It would be a madhouse if I had Masters running all around the multi-verse, hopping dimensions and time. I don't even want to think about it! It's bad enough with that mad fellow in the blue box, changes his appearance every time like he changes his socks. But the rest do carry the title and some of the powers. And each and every one of them willingly accepts dying, in order to accept me."

"Not a healthy mindset, that one," the female - he now knew to be Magic- said, daintily eating a pastry. "Then again, I suppose we can blame his horrible upbringing for that. Every universe, you would think that Fate would change it in at least one."

Death nodded, agreeing while he spooned some curry and rice into his mouth. "That headmaster of his sure didn't help," he said.

Percival observed the verbal tennis match with a slightly bemused air, feeling much more alert. He sat back and folded his hands over his stomach, which ached slightly now that he had eaten some soup, "Now why do I feel like I'm in a department meeting, listening to a presentation for a proposal that the presenters think I won't like?"

Magic's mouth twitched upwards (ah, they had his attention), but it was Death who put aside his pie, wiped his mouth on a napkin and said bluntly, "We want to de-age you, toss you into the future, and let you flail about, causing untold mayhem and upsetting innumerable plans, while helping my favoured and bringing down a Dark Lord."

Percival choked a little- he'd had more than enough of trying to combat Dark Lords, it hadn't turned out all that well! Surely he deserved a break.

"What Death means to say is we want to de-age you, place you at a point in time where you would be in a position to help teach and protect others, well one, very specific other, and, yes, help bring down a Dark Lord...and perhaps a Light Lord too…."

Percival blinked. "And why, pray tell, would I need to be de-aged to achieve that, surely I would be more help…..?"

The two immortals shared a glance, which silenced him. Magic replied, "To fit in of course."

Percival tilted his head and glared at them. It was not every day a mortal could make two Gods sweat but Percival Graves, even half dead, could be rather intimidating. They knew his response would only get worse the more their plans for him were revealed. Especially the ones for his interactions with Harry Potter, maybe they should just keep some of the.…finer…..details to themselves.

Death, still acting the part, put on his Big Gods Bloomers and said gruffly, "Because we said so."

Then promptly cleared his throat as Magic covered her face with a hand and shook her head before she added, "It's better if you are around Harry's age because he will trust you more."

"He doesn't trust adults at all, and it is not without reason," Death interjected. He shook his head sadly, "It's because of his upbringing. His Godfather left him with a half-giant the night his parents were killed. The giant then left him on his relatives' doorstep. Those relatives absolutely hate magic. Numerous neighbours and teachers were aware of the neglect and stood by doing nothing. Or if they reported it they were removed from his vicinity and their complaints quashed, so any promises they made to the boy were not kept. His Head of House at school has never listened when he has raised issues. Yet another teacher at the school spits vitriol at him every chance he can get, due to a failed relationship he had with the boy's mother. His best friend's parents are aware that at the very least he doesn't get regular meals and is locked up, but they have not acted. A friend of his parents, barely spoke to him the year they were in close proximity and then left without further contact. No word on where he had been all of the boys life or why he was not hanging around. When his Godfather came back into his life, he was a solid presence for a while but after the boy had been tortured and had seen a friend killed in front of him, on the word of the school's Headmaster, he was left behind again. And currently, again on the advice of the Headmaster they, adults and children alike, are all refraining from contacting him. To put it simply if you were an adult he would not trust you at all. As a child of his own age, you have a chance, particularly if we weight the odds in your favour."

"And most people won't be as suspicious of you when you pop up from seemingly nowhere. Plus, as despicable as it is, the main fighters in this particular war are children. Or at least they are on the Light's side," Magic finished. It was a horrible thought.

"And either way," Death said, "I have decided that I am giving you as a gift to my favoured. He needs someone that will always be on his side, who will teach him and care for him. It doesn't matter which universe we are talking about, the headmaster just won't do it. The Godfather might step up but will need a kick in the right direction. And his friends don't have the experience. You, however, will do perfectly."

"And if I don't want to go?" Percival raised an eyebrow, trying to stare down the immortal, as if he were one of the newly graduated Aurors straight from the academy.

"WE. ARE. GODS. CHILD." Death suddenly dropped the charade. His eyes glowed blue with the knowledge of eons, a cold blast of power radiated from him drowning Percival in the smothering sensation.

Magic's eyes began to glow too. "The Magical World has stagnated. They have lost their way and are losing their connection with me. Already feats of magic that were commonplace in your time are near legend. You. Are. Needed. If I am to survive on this world. And without me the world will fall. Gone will be the wonder of a child, love, hope, happiness, all will be lost," the sound of her voice reverberated in his chest. "Would you give up this second life? This chance to save and change the world, to protect it from harm!"

And that sealed his fate, Percival needed no time to consider the question. He already knew his answer. It was written into the foundations of his very soul. It was, more than anything, the reason he had chosen to become an Auror in the first place. The need to protect. To fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. "I will protect him," he agreed.

All at once the pressure that had thickened the air disappeared letting him draw breath once more. With a painful boom, he felt his heart beat once more.

"In that case, there are just a few more things to do. First we will heal your body. Even if you're going to keep those scars; it wouldn't do for you to walk around all skeletal. We need you in fighting condition. And then there is this," Death reached out and cupped his hand over the right side of Percival's neck. He tried to jerk away as an intense burning pain seared the sensitive skin. It lasted no more than a second, then Death withdrew, and Magic conjured a mirror. Graves choked, there tattooed on his neck was the mark of Gellert Grindelwald.

"Now, now," Death reprimanded, instantly aware of Percival thoughts, "that is not Grindelwald's mark; it is mine. Or rather, it's the mark of the Deathly Hallows. I told you I was giving you to my favoured; this is his mark, as their Master, even if- strictly speaking- he hasn't mastered them yet in this universe. Anyway, it will show those who know of such things who you belong to and will be a delightful red herring for a certain meddler. That man needs more mysteries to occupy his time and distract him from using my favoured as a pawn in his games," he muttered. Feeling the man's objections building and an argument about humans not being possessions on the horizon, he continued, "You will be his and he will be yours to protect and watch over. Actually you can think of that as your reward for taking this….assignment." He gave another smirk, "You're welcome!"

Magic humpffed then waved a hand and healed Percival. "In the vein of Death's distraction, a wand," she handed him a black wand with vine like swirls of silver reaching from grip to tip. "Elder wood," she informed him. "11 and 3/4 inches, unyielding, with a core of thestral hair. Let the man think of that what he will. You'll need to get to Gringotts as soon as you can manage, preferably with Harry, though I have no doubt it will take time and some finagling to manage. You'll be in a spot of trouble when you arrive, I'm afraid."

With that Percival felt a tug not unlike a portkey and then there was darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Dementors and the Dursleys

Percival regained consciousness in a children's park. The type of park where you might expect young mothers to meet on a Saturday morning. There were swings, a slide and even a little child-propelled merry-go-round. It had all seen better days. Over near the one unbroken swing on the far side of the dehydrated grassy area, a group of youths had gathered. A half dozen boys, who looked to be in their mid-teens, stood in a semi-circle surrounding a smaller boy with dark hair. The two boys that were standing at the ends held the shorter boy by the arms as he faced what was, by virtue of his size if nothing else, presumably the leader. Percival couldn't hear the angry words that were being exchanged but could see that the interaction was building to an inevitably violent conclusion.

As the group surged and moved, they pulled apart and Percival suddenly saw the smallest figure more clearly. Although the boy was physically identical to the form that Death had taken initially, he exuded a completely different aura. He was brimming with Life! It was as if there was a fire inside him. He burned so brightly that Percival could feel the heat from where he stood on the opposite side of the park. The emerald eyes hidden behind circular spectacles flashed with defiance even as the whale-child bore down on him and the rest of the gang jeered.

"Who's Cedric then? Your boyfriend?" the leader taunted, as Percival moved within range of hearing. "I hear you yelling out all night," here the curly haired blonde put on a high-pitched whimpering voice. "Don't Kill Cedric!" His face fell into a sneer as he began to laugh.

"Leave it alone. It's none of your business!" was the snapped reply.

"It's not my business he says? We'll see whose business it is, when I tell Dad that you've been waking me up every night crying out for your boyfriend, you scum sucking…" the whale-boy cocked his arm back with his fist clenched. Those gathered around stopped breathing, eyes bright, grinning in their anticipation.

Percival turned his stride into a run, only his auror training allowed him to notice the rapidly falling temperature and darkening sky. He could hear Magic's words echoing in his head, 'You'll be in a spot of trouble when you arrive, I'm afraid'. Goddess of Magic, Pah! Apparently, she was also the Goddess of understatements!

Over the years Percival had found that even a completely non magical being had a sort of sixth sense for the supernatural, possibly due to an over-developed sense of self-preservation. Because of this he was not surprised when the group suddenly dispersed like an intrusion of roaches exposed to a bright light. In less than a minute only two others remained in the playground, Whale-boy and Death's Master. The green-eyed boy (Had the immortals called him Harry?), was looking warily up at the sky, tugging the bully's, arm urgently, and with far more concern than Percival felt was warranted given the previous situation.

"Come on, Dudley. We have to get out of here!" Harry's fear bleed through his tone.

Surprisingly the large one followed Harry as both boys broke into a run. Percival followed after them, years of training as an auror making it easy for him to draw even with them.

"Who….who…are…you?!" the one now identified as Dudley managed to gasp out, between heaving breaths, several minutes later when he realised they had company.

"Innocent bystander," Percival replied without a hitch in his breath.

"Never…seen…you…before."

"Just got here; names Percival Graves."

"Interesting tattoo," Harry said suspiciously, not having nearly as much trouble as his cousin, considering he was rather used to running for his life. "I feel like I've seen it somewhere before. What's it they call it…..deja vu?"

Percival gave a noncommittal hum, following as they took, what he presumed to be a short cut, an alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. The world suddenly became pitch black and lightless. The sky was devoid of both stars and moon and there were not even any streetlights visible in the distance. A pervasive chill swept in and Dudley began to panic.

"Sto…stop… whatever it is you're doing, stop it! What are you doing?!" he started shouting at Harry as Harry tried to deny having done anything at all.

Before things could degenerate completely, Percival cut in, a hint of parade ground steel in his voice that promised retribution if his next order was not followed, "Shut up!".

Perhaps it was the tone or maybe it was being reprimanded for the first time in his life, but one of them had the effect of stunning Dudley into silence. "Since you are obviously blaming him, I assume you know about magic, yes?" Dudley stuttered the affirmative. "You live with him?" Again, a nod and stuttered reply. "Good, that gives me some leeway," Percival said before nodding and unsheathing his wand. "Lumos maxima," he said as he flicked his wrist like a whip. Dudley's eyes grew round, and he stuttered in protest again.

A ball of light left Percival's wand floating away from them to hover at the midpoint between the walls, illuminating the surroundings and the two Dementors who had entered the opposite end of the alleyway. Dudley made a weird gasping squeal as Harry drew his wand, from his back pocket. Percival spared a glance and raised eyebrow for the blonde as he firmly told Harry not use his wand, unless the dementors got passed him.

Already Percival could hear the echoes of his memories. His own agonised screams reverberating off the walls of his cell. The sadistic laugh and Grindelwald's taunting voice with its harsh accent mocking him and telling him how none of his colleagues had guessed, had even suspected for a moment that the man wearing his face was not, in fact, their boss but was the Dark Lord Grindelwald. He could feel his bones breaking and his nerves raw, as if they had been shredded with a razor, from the Cruciatus.

The other two weren't much better. Dudley had started whimpering. Though Harry impressed him, Percival could tell he was preparing to cast, eyes closed, and wand extended, despite his pale face. Percival with his decades of experience shutting down his emotions in favour of lightning fast responses, and channelling nothing but determination was quicker. Pushing the memories to the side he raised his elder wand and incanted, 'Expecto Patronum' before the boy could utter a word.

A stream of light exploded from the tip of his wand and coalesced into a panther, which proceeded to attack with all the viciousness one would expect from a large feline predator protecting its young. The Dementors gave way shudderingly, if they had voices they would surely have been shrieking as they turned and fled.

Moon, stars and street lamps burst back into life. The panther padded back to its conjuror and rubbed its face against his legs before making its way to inspect the two boys. Before the panther reached him, Dudley tried to pull away. Shrinking back as if he was trying to make himself disappear into the wall of the alley. It wasn't long before he was affected by the presence of the patronus and he slowly calmed. Finally, his trembling ceased, and he reached down hesitantly to pet its head. It moved on to Harry, staring into his eyes for a moment before standing up on its hind legs to plant its front paws on Harry's chest, rubbing its face against his and finally swiping up the side of his face with a rough tongue. Task complete it dropped down on to all fours and twined itself around his legs like a house-cat. Percival could only try and hide the red that was making its way across his face by burying his head in his hands. Finally, the patronus dispersed into wisps of smoke as the sound of hurried footsteps made their way towards them.

An old woman, who smelt of the essence of crazy cat lady and had the appearance to match, hastened around the corner huffing. She caught sight of Harry who, assuming he was now in the presence of a Muggle, was in the process of stowing his wand back in his pocket.

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

"What?" said Harry blankly. "Who?"

"He left!" said Mrs Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbles on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"

Many thoughts flashed by Harry's mind: his batty old cat-obsessed neighbour knew what Dementors were, a man named Mundungus Fletcher was…supposed to be watching him?! He had had absolutely zero contact with anything or anyone magical all summer and yet there were people watching him! Mundungus must have been who Harry had heard disapparating earlier, this was going to cause a lot of trouble. And apparently a cat makes a better guard than a wizard. But first: "You're—you're a witch?"

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off Dementors? He left you completely…." It was at this point she caught sight of Percival. "Who are you and what are you doing here? I know everyone in Privet Drive and I've never seen you even once," she peered at him in short-sighted suspicion.

"Oh, I was just passing through. Now, shall we go?" His comment seemed to have stunned her speechless but since she couldn't really do anything else Mrs Figg nodded and turned to go. As Dudley still seemed to be having difficulty walking Percival heaved one of his arms around his shoulders and nodded for Harry to take the other. The woman could be heard muttering and ranting to herself as she led the way however there was one word which caught Harry and Percival's attention.

"You know Dumbledore?" Harry said, staring at her, his feet momentarily stalling.

"Of course, I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on—I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag."

Harry went to put his wand away again before she said, "Keep your wand out. Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery… This was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of."

They were getting closer to Number 4 and Harry felt his chance of getting answers slipping through his fingers. "What do you mean it was what Dumbledore was afraid of? Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib? All those times I came round your house. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know…. But oh, my word," she said, wringing her hands once more, "when Dumbledore hears about this! How could Mundungus have left! He was supposed to be on duty until midnight. Where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened, I can't apparate."

"I've got an owl, you can borrow her," Harry offered.

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need to act as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my words."

"But I didn't even use magic!" Harry protested.

"You didn't….what! Then how did you get rid of the Dementors? My goodness boy, this isn't the sort of thing to lie about! What would Dumbledore and your parents think!"

"But I'm not lying! It was Graves that cast the Patronus," he said with an apologetic look for throwing the boy to the proverbial dragons. Percival just shrugged, not at all put out, being more interested in the information that was being revealed.

"I did indeed cast the Patronus, and a Lumos Maxima. Since I'm not a citizen of Britain…." he trailed off. Percival's words silenced the woman yet again, which he considered to be rather a good thing; he was alarmed by many of the things she had said. Not least of all was that she found it hard to treat Harry so miserably! As if that was any consolation to Harry!

Then there was Dumbledore. Percival thought he might have heard of Dumbledore back in his own time. There had been some papers on Transfiguration, possibly he had been a teacher and had some connection to the Flamels, and maybe some family trouble with the muggles…Oh that was what it was, he had been friends with Grindelwald. The International Confederation of Wizards had interviewed him at the start of Grindelwald's rise to power! What position had he accrued to have the authority to deny Harry knowledge of, not only his his heritage but, his magic? And to have people watching over Harry? Why did he need watching over? Who exactly, other than Death's favoured, was Harry Potter? At this point Percival was beginning to kick himself for not asking more questions of Death and Magic while he had the opportunity, it was a rookie error to head out on a mission without all the relevant details. Still there were times when no details were to be had, he would just have to treat this as one of those missions and take every precaution he could.

At that moment a loud crack reverberated down the street, swiftly followed by an overwhelming reek of stale tobacco and alcohol as a squat, unshaven man with long straggly ginger hair, short bandy legs, bloodshot baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of basset hound, wearing a tattered overcoat appeared. He was promptly assaulted by the woman after giving an irreverent greeting of, "'S'up, Figgy?"

Percival was not at all inclined to intervene, instead he nudged Harry and tilted his head in the direction they had been walking. Harry looked torn for a second, glancing between Number 4 and the pair that were now bickering before realising he wouldn't be getting any more information from Mrs Figg while she was arguing anyway. He nodded resignedly and continued to help manoeuvre his cousin. The only part he really cared to hear, and he was sure the whole street could hear them at this point (so much for the Statute of Secrecy), was that Fletcher was going to go tell Dumbledore.

Arabella Figg huffed as the dilapidated man left, then glanced confusedly around wondering where the boy had gone. She spotted them down the street and hurried to catch up. "Good," she said, as she reached them, "finally showing some of that intelligence they told me you had. Goodness, such a disaster. You having to fight off Dementors: in Little Whinging of all places! And Dumbledore said we were to keep you from doing magic! Well, no use crying over spilt potion," she said, seemingly forgetting Percival's involvement and the fact that Harry did not actually use magic. "Now, I'll walk you to the door but then I'm going straight home; have to wait for instructions, after all."

Percival suppressed a snort, yes clearly it was more important for her to tell this Dumbledore than to ensure the teen was ok.

"So, Dumbledore's been having me watched?" Harry asked, trying to get a sense of how long and how closely he had been observed. They couldn't have been watching too closely or surely, they would have done something about Vernon's beatings.

"Of course, he has," Mrs. Figg gestured to the door impatiently. "Did you expect him to let you wander around after what happened in June? Good Lord, boy, show some sense. Right, get inside and stay there. I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough."

Job done she turned and left them standing on porch, she was gone before Harry could even yell for her to wait. So instead the three just made their way to the door. Harry put his wand away and rang the doorbell. They could see Aunt Petunia's outline growing larger and larger, oddly distorted by the rippling glass, before the door was opened with a, "Diddy! About time too, I was getting quite—quite—Diddy, what's the matter?"

Harry glanced sideways, then ducked out from under his cousin's arm and darted away with reflexes honed from years of quidditch just in time as Dudley's face went a pale green before he promptly vomited all over the doormat.

"DIDDY! Diddy, what's the matter with you? Vernon! VERNON!"

Harry's uncle came barrelling out of the living room like a rampaging walrus, moustache twitching and puffing as he always did when he was agitated. Seeing his Nephew standing off to the side he grunted and lifted an arm ready to take a swing at Harry, rumbling out a threat.

"Excuse me!" Percival's voice cut through Petunia's hysterics and Vernon's threats, easily dropping into the parade ground commanding voice again. Though his tone softened once he had their attention, "Your son is going into shock. If you would, Ma'am get a warm blanket and take him to sit on the couch; the adrenaline is just wearing off and he's suffering some slight symptoms from the attack earlier." He handed Dudley over to Vernon, as Petunia raced to the upstairs linen closet. He stepped closer to Harry and said in an undertone, "Would you please make some hot chocolate for the three of us. You and I might not be feeling the after-effects just yet but believe me, they're there. I'll deal with your… aunt and uncle?" He guessed.

Harry nodded. "My Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon Dursley." He hesitated before admitting, "Be careful. They're… not very fond of magic and Vernon saw what he's like…" He wouldn't have said anything, but Percival had been so helpful, Harry thought it only fair that he should be forewarned.

"I can handle it," Percival assured him. Harry looked him in the eyes to gauge his truthfulness before nodding and making his way to the kitchen.

Percival strode through the doorway that he had seen Vernon carry Durdley through. It appeared that the shock of the evening had caught up with the boy and he was huddled on the couch, shivers wracking his body, slowly rocking. Petunia came in with some blankets and gently laid them over her son. Both adults were trying to cajole answers from him, but he was stuttering so badly they could hardly make anything out.

Vernon turned, when a floorboard creaked and saw Percival enter the room. "You!" he boomed, "What happened to my son? You said he was attacked!"

"Indeed, I did," Percival answered calmly, not responding to the aggression. "And whether you want to hear it or not, the attack was magical in nature."

Petunia gave a horrified little shriek, her hand springing to cover her mouth. Vernon however, just swelled even bigger and roared, "I WILL NOT HAVE THAT NONSENSE IN MY HOUSE!"

Percival was not impressed. "You became part of the magical world the moment a member of your family was born with magic. Whether you want it in this house, or don't want to believe it exists at all, is a moot point. Your son and your nephew were attacked. Your nephew is magical and living in your house. Magic exists, and you will have to deal with it. But that isn't important right now. Your son was attacked by a being known as a dementor…."

"And what in the ruddy hell is a dementor?" Vernon interrupted.

Surprisingly, it was a deathly pale Petunia who answered, just as Harry entered carefully balancing a tray laden with five cups of hot chocolate, "They are the monsters that guard the wizard prison, Azkaban."

Harry jerked into stillness, brain overloading from how many times his world had turned on its axis in the last few hours. He barely noticed Percival as he took two of the cups and placed them next to the adults, he was so wrapped up in trying to comprehend that Aunt Petunia knew what Dementors were. No matter which way he thought about it Harry just couldn't understand it, he just had to ask. "How d'you know that?"

"I heard—that awful boy—telling her about them—years ago," she said jerkily, eyes still on her son.

"If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use their names?" he said snidely. Petunia ignored him. He was about to continue to goad her more, when a sharp look from Graves, as he took another cup off the tray, made him close his mouth.

Graves went over to Dudley and held out a cup to him, "Chocolate cures the effects of a dementor. Drink this, it should also help with the shock." Dudley took the cup grateful for anything that would help and cradled it between his hands, taking a sip and nodding in appreciation. Percival grabbed the second last cup from the tray, drinking from it before he said to Harry, "You should drink yours too."

Vernon seemed, by some miracle, to be subsiding as the obvious tremors in his son lessened and the colour returned to Dudley's face. Perhaps the hot chocolate he had consumed had helped him too. Petunia set her cup on the side table and ignored it. This small bit of peace was destroyed however, when an owl flew in through the open window with a screech, barely missing Harry's head, as it dropped an envelope neatly at his feet before wheeling gracefully. "OWLS!" Vernon bellowed, "OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE!" He waved his arms around violently, completely missing the bird as it made its exit.

Harry wasn't listening (no one was actually), he was already ripping open the envelope with his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, his stomach somewhere near his feet and a giant ball of nerves and dread in the location recently vacated by his stomach.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_ We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle._

_ The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand._

_ As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under section 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 A.M. on August 12th._

_ Hoping you are well._

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Mafalda Hopkirk_

_ IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_

_ Ministry of Magic_

Harry read through the letter twice sure there was some sort of mistake. He couldn't be expelled. Could he? How could this happen? Hogwarts was his home. He hadn't even done any magic! The line '_Ministry representative would soon be by to destroy his wand_' kept playing over and over in his head. His breathe burnt his throat as he inhaled harshly. He barely noticed when Graves reached for the letter; letting it slip through numb fingertips. A hand on his shoulder grounded him as he swayed precariously, and he reached up a hand to grasp it like a lifeline.

Graves kept his gaze on Harry for a moment longer, expressive black eyes showing concern, when he was sure that the boy wouldn't fall he looked down and read the letter. He was silent for a beat before asking, "Previous offence?"

Harry tonelessly replied, "Also not me; it was a house elf named Dobby. He didn't want me going back to Hogwarts my second year because there was a dangerous plot by his former master. He levitated a cake, and dropped in on a guest's head, in attempt to get them to stop me from returning to school by locking me in my room. If that wasn't bad enough, the Muggle guests were still here when an owl dropped off the letter and the wife had ornithophobia."

"If they were so concerned about the Statute, they would make sure the birds didn't deliver missives where there were No-Majs present. It's not like it is particularly difficult to arrange," Graves grumbled. At Harry's questioning look he clarified, "No magic; you call them Muggle. I also don't quite understand how this whole magic detecting thing is supposed to work. In America, we have a much more efficient system. One that doesn't confuse one minor's magic with another's, much less a completely different species. Quite frankly that's ridiculous."

"But what do I do? Hogwarts is my home." Harry said tearfully. Unbeknownst to Harry (and it would remain that way) that was the moment the severely weakened (and since the resurrection of Voldemort) practically pointless blood wards fell.

"If they do come to destroy your wand, you have the right to….." Percival was cut off by an almighty CRACK as another owl missed the open window entirely and flew full speed into the glass. Harry ran over as his aunt screeched in surprise, Vernon started yelling about owls again and Dudley blinked slowly with a dazed sort of bemused expression on his face, he was obviously doing much better than he had been earlier.

Harry took the small roll of parchment from the bird and brushed his hands through the feathers, straightening them as best he could before it took off. The note said:

_Harry, _

_ Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry, and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANYMORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND._

_Arthur Weasley_

Dumbledore was trying to sort it all out.? The man had that kind of power in the Ministry? Did that mean… he might be allowed back into Hogwarts? Harry felt a small kernel of hope as he passed the note to Graves. Then he panicked. How was he supposed to refuse to surrender his wand to a ministry representative? Who would undoubtedly be an adult wizard with the law on their side! And do it without magic! His breath had started to quicken again when a hand gently squeezed the back of his neck, bringing him back to the present. Graves didn't even look at him as he read the missive and then stared thoughtfully into space.

What a colossal mess, Percival thought. Adding the information, he had gathered from Figg's offhand comments about Dumbledore expecting something like this to happen, the Ministry's swift action to expel Harry and Dumbledore's influence…. Well it was becoming evident that he needed some connections in the political world, if he was to be any use to Harry. But… just who did he have…? He was out of his time by a good 60-70 years, surely everyone he knew was..… '_Seraphina Picquery is alive and still has the clout you will need in an ally'_, a voice whispered through his mind. Well, he decided, it would be somewhat challenging, and possibly entertaining, that was sure to be a draw card for Picquery. However, the last thing Picquery would remember of Graves, was Grindelwald waltzing around wearing his face. Percival wondered if they ever found his old body or even discovered that it wasn't really him? He sighed. There was only one way to prove it, he would have to write in blood.

"You said you have an owl?" he asked turning to Harry, who nodded. "Think they'll be up to a trip to America?"

"She's never been that far but you can ask her," Harry replied quietly trying not to draw any attention from his Aunt and Uncle.

Percival raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He stopped briefly to check on Dudley again, who seemed almost back to normal except for shadows in his eyes. They would never completely disappear, a permanent mark of one who has seen terror, been faced with horror and survived.

"Finish the hot chocolate and you'll be good to go; I'll need to talk to you later though, okay?" Dudley nodded, he owed the new boy his life after all. Then Percival followed Harry up the stairs only to stop and stare at the multitude of locks and a…..was that a cat flap? On the door?! The inside of the room wasn't much better: broken furniture, a cot, and an overall depressing atmosphere that spoke of misery and more recently, nightmares. Harry was standing in front of a cage, gingerly coaxing a magnificent beauty of a Snowy Owl out of the cage. And if Percival caught sight of some lock picks laid on the desk next to it, well, it wasn't any of his business.

"Hey girl, I know it will be a long way, but this is Percival Graves. He saved my cousin and me tonight. There were dementors out near the park. Would you mind taking a letter to America for him?"

The owl turned amber eyes on Percival, then sort of bobbed her body forwards prompting Harry to take her closer to Percival. The piercing gaze at the much shorter distance felt like it was weighing and measuring the trustworthiness of his soul and his intentions towards her wizard. She apparently was satisfied with the judgement as she hopped onto his shoulder and nuzzled his face, nipping at his hair.

"Huh. She's only ever done that to me before," Harry said. Hermione and Ginny would be jealous!

"She's a beauty; what's her name?" Percival asked as he handed her back.

"Hedwig. Do you need parchment? A quill? Ink?"

"Do you have an empty, and clean, ink pot, parchment, quill and knife? A pen knife will be fine, as long as it's sharp."

"Um, I think so," Harry said a bit unsurely before retrieving the required items from his trunk. He set them before Graves and took his first real chance to observe the new arrival. The other boy was handsome, tall, and broad-shouldered, his eyes were black and expressive. There was a scar curling under his right eye, along his eye socket and another which travelled vertically down his jaw from his lower cheek to under his chin, they were both pale and well-healed and did not detract from his looks at all. He looked to be around Harry's age, maybe a year or two older, if you took his height as an indication, standing several inches over Harry's meagre 5 foot 4 frame. His hair was black as well, just a touch longer on top and cut so close it was nearly shaved on the sides; it had obviously been slicked back earlier but now was falling freely down into his face. Harry had seen the tattoo on the right side of his neck as they were running from the park but could now see it better; it was a strange design, one he was sure he had seen some where before, a plain black triangle with a circle in it and a line bisecting them. It evoked a strange response in him, something akin to recognition and there was a strange feeling of wanting to grab hold of Percival and never let go. To be quite frank, it was weird. Harry gasped, reaching out involuntarily, when he saw Graves cut into his palm and hold it out over the ink pot, collecting the blood. "What are you doing!" his voice came out an octave higher than usual.

Percival just calmly continued decanting his blood into the ink well as he explained, "Blood is powerful, especially the blood of a magical being. Something written in your blood can not be a lie, otherwise your life and magic is forfeit. Never let anyone take your blood and never leave your blood just laying around; you'd never believe what someone can do if they get a hold of it. They can do terrible things: control your mind, track you anywhere, tailor-fit potions to you, access your vault and home; you give someone your blood—you give them your life."

"That's… I never knew that." Harry suddenly felt very, very ill. He was about to ask about the implications of the ritual he had been part of in June but was interrupted as Percival continued.

"Some people do, some people don't; it's not really spoken about aloud. Just one of those things you're supposed to instinctively know. Since it's so embedded into the culture, no one really thinks to say it." Was it possible Voldemort didn't know what he had done?

"Do you mind if I ask who you're writing to, that you need to do it in blood?"

Percival just let a "hn" noise as he inspected the quill nib before waving his hand over the penknife, cleaning it, and then expertly shaved the nib down. Harry was stunned at the casual use of wandless magic. He would have to ask Percival if he would teach him. Graves replied, "Seraphina Picquery. She… knows me but would be more than unbelieving if she received a letter from me out of the blue, so I need to prove who I am."

Before Harry could respond to either the statement or the wandless magic another owl came through his window, dropped a letter, and skedaddled. Harry was getting pretty sick of official looking owls at this point but dutifully opened the letter anyway.

_ Dear Mr. Potter,_

_ Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on 12th August, at which time an official decision will be taken._

_ Following discussions with the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry had agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries._

_ With best wishes,_

_ Yours sincerely,_

_ Mafalda Hopkirk_

_ IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_

_ Ministry of Magic_

Well, at least he wasn't expelled, yet. He handed this letter over to Graves as well. It was strange that Harry felt comfortable to do so, maybe it was because Percival came across as so competent and had actually been willing to help Harry deal with the evenings mess.

"So, explain to me: who exactly is Dumbledore? He seems to have a lot of power for just being the Headmaster of a school," Graves asked carefully as he reread the letter.

"He's the best Headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen. According to his chocolate frog card, he defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald in a duel. He's been warning the Ministry for years that Voldemort wasn't really dead and now Voldemort's back, and they don't seem to want to listen." Graves made another small noise, if he discovered it wasn't warranted he would have to break through that hero worship! He turned back to his letter.

Percival was trying to think of the easiest and most believable way to tell Seraphina what had happened to him. He quickly came to the conclusion that, that aspiration was a pipe dream. So he tried to get his needs across as succinctly as possible.

_ Picquery,_

_ I am sure you have already figured out who this is and receiving this letter from beyond the grave will, no doubt, have come as a surprise. To be honest I should be dead and I would have been, had it not been for the interference of two….I can only call them, Gods. The tale is so fantastical that I have written the entirety of this letter in blood instead of just my signature. I barely believe it myself and it happened to me!_

_ As my life started leaving me I was transported to the realm between Life and Death. They offered me—or ordered me to take, however you want to consider it, a second life. Why though chose me over anyone else I am unsure. However, they wanted me to help change the Wizarding World, starting with Britain and to fight in the war that seems to be brewing here. To that end, I am once again in my fifteen year old body, and am in England, at the residence of one Harry Potter._

_ Earlier, minutes after I arrived here in fact, Harry Potter, his cousin, and by extension, myself, were attacked by two Dementors. I cast the Patronus Charm, to protect us using the wand that Magic had gifted to me my original one being taken by Grindlewald. However, it was Mr. Potter who received a letter from the British Ministry informing him that for producing a Patronus Charm in a No-Maj area, in front of a No-Maj (his cousin who was quite aware of magic before this evening), he was expelled from Hogwarts and his wand was to be snapped forthwith._

_ There is, of course several things wrong with this, starting with the aforementioned fact that as the spell was cast in front of a member of his family that he lives with, there would be leeway given and finishing with the fact that HE DIDN'T CAST MAGIC AT ALL. Not to mention I have cause to believe the cousin is a Squib._

_ Perhaps, the most disturbing thing about this event, is the involvement of one Albus Dumbledore. It seems that the only legal authority Dumbledore has over Harry is as Headmaster of the school he attends. And yet, I have learned that the man has arranged to have a constant 'guard' keeping watch on Mr. Potter all summer. He apparently has also had a Squib watching Mr. Potter from a young age, forbidding her from telling the boy of magic and his heritage, giving the explanation of him being 'too young'. There seems to be even more suspicious going-ons, considering his relatives are anti-magic, in the vein of the Second Salemers, but I digress._

_ Mr Potter soon received a second note telling him that Dumbledore had arrived at the Ministry and would 'sort it out'. A little while later he received another official owl informing him that he could keep his wand until the disciplinary hearing on August 12th and 'following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' the Ministry agreed to revisit the expulsion and to consider himself suspended pending further inquiries._

_ What sort of power has Dumbledore managed to accrue since I was locked in that blasted cell, Picquery? Mr. Potter tells me he defeated Grindelwald in a duel? He seems to have amassed a large amount of political power, and from what I've seen, I'm not sure he's been using it properly. Why is he so fixated on Harry Potter, surely, he wouldn't do this for every student?_

_ More than anything else I need information. All the relevant history from my disappearance until now, the most up-to-date law books for Britain and anything from the ICW that could override whatever the British Ministry decides. I need an ally Picquery, and I need your silence on my past. I would also like a friend._

_ I'm staying with Harry Potter, the town we are in appears to be called Little Whinging, though I am unsure where it is within England exactly. My place is now and will be by his side for the duration of this war. I can only assume we are going to be moved to a more secure location soon and the likelihood of a letter getting through is slim. Though Mr. Potter's owl seems unusually intelligent, it would take too long for correspondence to be passed between us often. As magnificent as she is, I feel I shouldn't use her too frequently as she is very noticeable._

_In the name of our friendship and all that I've been through, I need your help, Phina._

_Percival Graves_

Percival took a deep breath and leaned back as he waited for the blood to dry. An owl came through the window making Harry groan in exasperation.

"I think I know how Uncle Vernon feels. I'm really getting sick of strange owls showing up this evening," he said as he took the note. Hedwig hooted in agreement, as the bird stopped and drank from her water dish. He read it and his entire face twitched before he snorted out, "That's rich, coming from him."

At Percival's questioning noise he explained, "My godfather writes '_Arthur's just told us what happened. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do._' He and Mr. Weasley, my best mate's dad, the one that sent the letter before, act like I'm misbehaving, and they are saving up their scoldings for when they can see me in person. Sirius, my godfather, has been telling me all summer to 'keep my head down,' 'be good,' and 'don't do anything reckless'." Harry huffed, "Which is more than a little hypocritical as he is rather famous for chasing after my parent's betrayer instead of taking care of me, his godson. That led to him being framed and subsequently sent to Azkaban without trial. He then broke out of prison twelve years later to go commit the crime he was accused of, killing Pettigrew, and spent a year on the run from the Aurors, who had a a Kiss on Sight order issued for him. Only to finally get caught at the end of the year. With some assistance he managing to get away again, this time on the back of a Hippogriff, that was also ordered to be executed. He is currently supposed to still be in hiding. And here he is telling me not to be reckless! What would I have to do to be more reckless than him? March off and challenge Voldemort to a duel?! When I've been stuck in this house all summer without the slightest connection to the Wizarding World or magic at all? Maybe if they would just tell me what is going on I wouldn't be so desperate! I'm the one who faced Voldemort in June! Who was forced to watch as Cedric was killed! Who was forced to help bring my enemy back using my own blood! And they tell me not to be reckless, that they aren't allowed to say anything, that I'm, and this is the kicker, that I'm too young to be told anything! As if my age and not knowing anything is going to save me! Voldemort attacked me when I was fifteen months old, I doubt he is going to wait until my seventeenth birthday before he attacks again."

Harry laid down on his bed, panting from the released emotional stress. He had been holding it in all summer, with every nightmare, with every letter telling him nothing, with every day that the Muggle news shared nothing useful, and with every Daily Prophet smearing his name. He almost felt hollow now, almost all the things building up had been let out, like a boil that had been lanced. He felt better. He turned his head back to Percival to see his reaction to the outburst. Percival's face was blank but there was a hint of compassion in his eyes, nothing like pity, but an understanding of feeling helpless.

After a long moment Harry sat up with a sigh and said, "We should probably talk to my Aunt and Uncle, I don't think anyone's had dinner yet."

Percival nodded then folded his letter up and put it in an envelope, heating the wax and sealing it magically. He passed his hand over it again, laying some enchantments and wards so that no one but Picquery would be able to handle the letter or envelope. Hedwig landed on the desk and waddled excitedly over. Percival smiled at her enthusiasm. "This is for Seraphina Picquery; I'm not sure where she lives but I would think somewhere in New York. Would you mind if I cast some charms on you? A Fly-Easy Charm, Water-Repelling Charm, and one so that you can't be intercepted or tracked?"

She looked a bit offended at the last but agreed to it anyway. Then she was on her way and Harry and Percival headed to the parlour. The Dursleys were sitting around the room. Dudley and Petunia on the couch and Vernon in an arm chair, they seemed a bit lost. It looked like Dudley was drinking Petunia's hot chocolate.

"Aunt Petunia, I don't think Dudley and I have eaten dinner and I'm not too sure about Percival here. Have you and Uncle Vernon eaten?" he asked with more gentleness than he ever had used when addressing her before.

"N..No, we haven't. I should…I should make dinner. Is your…" she stopped unsure of how the other boy knew Harry. She turned to address Percival, "Will you be staying for dinner?"

"I would very much appreciate being able to stay and to eat with you and your family, Ma'am," he replied. "If it eases your mind any, someone will likely be here within the next few days to collect Harry and I will be going with him."

Vernon grunted a 'good riddance' but Petunia barely glanced at him as she stood and nervously wiped her hands on her dress before making her way to the kitchen. Harry followed her.

When he reached the kitchen, he saw his Aunt holding herself up by the kitchen counter almost seemingly on the brink of tears. Harry had seen a lot of his aunt's emotions: happy when with her husband and son, proud of her son, jealous of the neighbour's new car, prideful whenever anyone complimented her on her garden, angry at him, frustrated, scared, cold, haughty, pretentious. But never had he seen her looking so… vulnerable, so human. It occurred to him for the first time that she was his mother's sister. He had always known she was his aunt, that she had grown up with his mother, despite the fact that she never talked about it, but never before had he realised that… this woman's sister had been murdered and tonight the same world that had killed her sister had almost killed her son.

Petunia abruptly straightened and raised a hand to wipe under her eyes. Catching sight of him she cleared her throat and said, "Harry, I didn't see you there. Was there something you needed? I'm afraid I simply must get dinner started. I was thinking something hearty, with potatoes."

With that she turned and started rummaging through the pantry and the refrigerator taking out what she needed and laying it on the counter. Harry came closer and said quietly, "I… I thought I'd help you make dinner."

"That's… that's not necessary, Harry." Any other night he would have been pleased, and probably slightly suspicious, at not being forced to cook dinner, but tonight Harry sensed something was different. It was an unlooked for opportunity.

Harry reached out and gently caught her wrist where she was readying to slice an onion, forcing her to look at him. "I want to help you."

She took a deep shuddering breath before nodding and sliding the chopping board over to him. "Then you can cut up the vegetables and I'll put the potatoes on to boil and cook the meat. I thought I'd try out that cottage pie recipe that I saw in a magazine; it's supposed to only take about 40 minutes."

The kitchen was silent except for the sounds of food preparation before Petunia asked in a quiet vulnerable voice, "Why do you think there were Dementors here? They couldn't have been after Dudley and… and it seems that you would be the most likely target."

"I don't know; I hadn't thought about it. But… Voldemort probably sent them." There was a clatter where Petunia almost dropped her spatula. "He's back. He came back last June. I was there; I saw him. He killed a classmate right in front of me."

Understanding suddenly bloomed in her eyes, "That's why you've been so desperate to watch the news: you're looking for signs of him. Has there been any news from… from your friends, and that newspaper you subscribe to? Don't think I don't know about that mister."

Harry shook his head as he passed her the chopping board with the now diced onion on it, for her to sauté with the meat. Taking the board back he began chopping the carrots and other vegetables (potions perfect too) not that he really noticed and answered, "No, they just keep telling me 'they aren't allowed to say anything' and 'it's really busy here but we'll tell you when we see you' but they won't even tell me when that could even be. It's part of the reason I've been so…"

"Such a little git?" Petunia suggested lightly. "I don't imagine the lack of sleep from the nightmares is helping."

"Angry. I was going to say angry," Harry gave her a little smile.

Then his Aunt Petunia did the something that had hitherto been unimaginable: she chuckled. "That you have been. You always did give us more lip when you were angry. Your temper has been more volatile of late. You get that from…" She paused and gulped before continuing on a little hoarsely, "You get that your mother, from Lily, I remember her having fits of anger when she was tired or stressed. She stopped coming home from school at Easter because of it."

Harry nearly took the tip of his finger off from the shock of hearing the name. There was none of the venom in his aunt's voice that she usually had when talking about his mother. Instead there was a long-buried pain and an even more deeply buried regret.

"I need the mushrooms," Petunia said. He handed them over and quiet reigned again. This time the silence had somehow relaxed a bit. Harry finished the vegetables and his aunt said quietly, "Drain the potatoes, then combine them with these." She pushed some ingredients and a bowl towards him. "Yolk only; the recipe is written down on the notepad near the wall."

Harry mashed and mixed the potatoes. It was strangely soothing to work in tandem with his aunt, moving around in synch with hardly any need for words. That same long-forgotten part of himself that had taken this chance, now felt like a plant finally being watered and opening up to the sun. When he was little, Harry had dreamed of working beside his family as he had seen Petunia try to do with Dudley when she had been attempting to teach his cousin to cook. When Harry was a little older than that, standing lonely on a stool managing an entire meal on his own, he had wondered what it would be like if his aunt had actually taught him how to cook, showing him with love and care, making it into something for the two of them to share instead of just another chore he had to do for a family that wished they had never heard of his existence.

"When… when your mother and I… when we were younger… before that awful boy taught her all about… about magic… before magic came between your mother and I, we would sometimes cook together. On Mother's Day and Father's Day, we would make breakfast and serve it to our parents in bed. We would make elaborate picnics for the two of us and spend the day at the park. That was where she met that boy you know, that Snape boy, he took her away from me. When our parents were too tired or had had a hard day at the hospital, we would beg to cook. Only once in a blue moon did we ever order a pizza or have food out."

"Hospital?" Harry asked, the first thought out of his mouth. He had always wondered about his grandparents, about any family he had really. His already spinning mind had jagged on the fact that his mother had apparently known, and might have been friends with, Snape. But he pushed the thought hurriedly to the side as he decided, this was a day where the world was just not going to make sense. At this point the only thing he could do was he roll with it and see what happened next.

"Our parents, John and Camellia Evans, were doctors. Our mother was quite famous for it really, being a doctor instead of a nurse. She fought tooth and nail for that right, she was an amazing woman. They died in a car crash, a drunk driver drove them off the road. It happened when I was three months pregnant with Dudley; I never even got to tell them. We'd had a fight you see, the last things I said to them were so hateful; I hadn't been able to face them afterwards."

Harry didn't know what to say. She was almost talking to herself at this point, Harry wasn't even sure she remembered he was there, but then she looked at him. "If you take off your glasses… you have your Grandad's ears and Grandmum's eyebrows. Lily got her eyes from our Mother's Mother; I'm sort of surprised you inherited them."

"I was at your parents' wedding, it would have been the last time I saw your Mother. Your dad and that Godfather of your's were right bastards; Lily had warned them Vernon was iffy about magic and what do they do? Prank him! Vernon was in the hospital for three weeks with that broken leg! The red and gold hair didn't go away for a month and the random lion roars didn't stop for a good six months! It was utterly humiliating! He was fired from his job for unprofessional behaviour. Then he got the job at Grunnings and had to start at the bottom again."

She let out a disgruntled huff at the memory. "But anyway, I had meant to say that you got your father's hair, the…style anyway, and his jawline. Those cheekbones looked more like your Godfather's though, and the hair colour. I think I heard something about your Grandmother or maybe great-Grandmother being a Dory… Dorris… Dorea! Dorea Black, that was her name. Now, I need the red casserole dish, then this will be ready for the oven, well, broiler but…"

She spooned the meat and gravy mixture into the dish then spread the potatoes evenly on top and slid it into the broiler. She went to the fridge and got out the juice and poured two glasses, sliding one over to Harry, "So what has that newspaper of yours been reporting if not evil Dark Lord activity?"

"A bunch of lies. They're smearing my name and reputation, making me out to be an attention-seeking liar who is a danger to himself and others," Harry said with derision.

Petunia tilted her head. "And they're just… allowed to do that? To ruin a young boy's life with hearsay?"

"What do you mean? I thought they could just say anything they wanted; it's not like I have parents or anyone to kick up a fuss about it."

"You should look up the journalism laws, surely they can't be that different. Your father was quite wealthy, they had a lawyer on retainer I believe."

Harry shook his head. "I saw the vault they left for me. I'll be stretching it to make sure I have enough for the rest of my schooling and a year or two after, if I'm really careful."

"Hm. That doesn't sound right. Have you talked to your goblin?"

"My…goblin?"

"When they came to take Lily to get her things in first year, we went to the bank and there were these scary little creatures at the tellers. Your father slipped up once when he was bragging about being rich, he told Vernon that he would never have to work if he didn't want to, as his goblin was looking after his accounts. I presumed, all the old families have their own account manager, just like us and our bank."

She checked on the pie and hummed in satisfaction before putting it aside to cool a bit. "Help me set the table?" Harry nodded and soon five place settings were laid out and the cottage pie was sitting enticingly in the middle. They exited the kitchen to find only Vernon.

"I'll go get Dudley and Percival," Harry volunteered.

When Harry had followed his aunt into the kitchen Percival had stood quietly, contemplating his options before saying, "I would like to speak to Dudley. Privately please."

Vernon was about to make a big production of it, but Dudley quickly slid off the couch and simply said, "We can talk in my room."

They had reached the second-story hallway when Percival said, "Actually, it would be better to talk in your cousin's room; we're going to need some things and the desk." Dudley followed him into what, he now remembered, had been his second bedroom (and god, how that thought made him feel sick).

Percival stood before the camp bed and gestured for Dudley to take the desk chair. Once he was seated Percival sat down and steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them and observing Dudley intently. The blond had the strangest sensation of being in a police interrogation room.

"I want you to tell me the truth. When the light came on, you gasped. Why was that?"

"What do you mean, why? There were these… floaty cloak things coming towards us. Their fingers looked all… water-decayed and skeletal and…And they were horrible, they made me feel awful, like I'd never be happy again!"

"Thank you," Percival stopped and thought about what he was going to say next. "I… know that you did not grow up… liking magic," he said slowly, "but… your two worlds, your cousin's two worlds magical and mundane have merged and there's no going back, do you understand?"

He waited for a nod and continued, "From what I've learned… there is war coming and your cousin is a key player. For this reason and others, there will be those who fear him, those who will worship him, those who will wish to use him, those who will want to drag him down, and those who will want to kill him. This 'disciplinary hearing' is more than likely an attempt to bring him down before he can gain any real power or support. For this reason, he needs an air tight case. I will of course be there next to him, but it will be easier if we compile evidence. Which is why I would like you to make a statement, like a police statement, just write down what happened in your own words. Unlike a non-magical police statement, this one would be magically binding. To do this you would write at the beginning of the statement, 'I so swear that everything here written is true to the fullest extent of my knowledge,' then write the statement and sign in your blood. The blood is needed because only you, acting under your own power, can sign it. If someone were to fake either the statement or your signature, they would be punished by magic and the ink would turn liar-blue. It is unmistakable in the Magical World, there's no other shade like it. Likewise, if anything you write is untrue after swearing it to be true, Magic would punish you appropriately and…"

"Hold on. You're talking about magic like it's… like it's alive or something."

"That's because it is. It is both a tool and a gift, an energy and a force. It has form and intelligence and she blesses… her… people accordingly."

"That's…that's so cool."

"I'm glad you think so. Will you write a statement?"

"Yeah. Why… why did you ask what I saw?"

"A No-Maj wouldn't be able to see Dementors. Therefore, you are what is called a Squib. It means that you are in a way, magic-born. You have the ability to see things mundanes can't. You won't ever be able to use a wand, but you could make most potions, if you wished to learn. And I've heard tales of Squibs being able to harness other types of magic, where the magic comes from an external source, though I myself have never seen it. It also means a child of yours could have magic too."

"Would you tell me more after I write this? Even though Mum and Dad are so… anti-magic… I… well, what kid doesn't wish that magic was real or that they had it?"

So Dudley wrote out his statement and barely flinched when Percival cut him with Harry's pen knife and explained the importance of blood to him, just as he had to Harry earlier. And that was how Harry found them when he checked upstairs: Dudley leaning forwards with an eagerness and a child-like innocence Harry had never seen before, listening as Percival spun fantastic yet educational stories about Magic, traditions and his school days.

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair, every time Vernon looked like he was getting ready to puff up, Petunia glanced sharply at him and he subsided. Conversation was light and about the magical world, not Britain's Wizarding world, but the greater world, the one less prejudiced against blood. Petunia slid in a sly comment to Percival about maybe taking Harry to check his vaults and to see what could be done about the journalism situation, not that she said it so bluntly.

It seemed that all his Uncle's good will disappeared with the plates. As they were put away. Vernon protested loudly that he would not be allowing a 'freak' to sleep in the guest room and no amount of Petunia glaring or Dudley pouting would convince him otherwise, so Percival followed Harry up to the smallest bedroom at the end of the night. Harry had offered to sleep on the floor but Percival, being used to cramped and much less hospitable sleeping environments said not to worry about it.

That night was the first night since the events in the graveyard that Harry didn't wake himself, and everyone else in the house, with his screaming. He also didn't dream of a long, dark corridor. Instead in the morning he woke up with his legs tangled with Percival's and a hand resting on that strange tattoo.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was surprised when the congenial tones of that first dinner with Percival continued over the following days. It seemed that, that one evening had begun to re-build a previously neglected bridge between himself and his aunt, and the traumatic event had certainly influenced his cousin. The little family would sit in the conservatory for hours while Vernon was at work, and Percival would tell them all about magic; the different kinds, like magic drawn from the environment, light magic, grey magic, dark magic, black magic, even white magic (Harry was somewhat shocked at the amount that he didn't know). He talked about the different ways to harness and use magic. He described rites and rituals that wizards used to practice to give back to Magic and the traditional holidays they had celebrated to honour their culture and heritage, watching as Harry's enthusiasm grew. He explained what was expected of a young Lord and the political pull Harry would one day have.

Three days after the Dementor Incident a spectral cheetah suddenly appeared in the centre of the breakfast table, it looked at Percival before saying in a voice like velvet, "I'll be there. I'm sending the documents through Gringotts, along with the owl. To better manage the situation, I have decided to relocate to London. Contact me when you can…. It's good to hear from you, Percy."

A triumphant and savage grin split Percival's face as the cheetah disappeared. Oh, with Phina's backing this was going to be fun.

"Percy?" He heard Harry exclaim with a hint of incredulity. "Who was that? And was that, was that a patronus? How did it talk?"

"Phina, Seraphina Picquery, has called me that on occasion since our school days. That wasn't quite the standard Patronus Charm; it was a variation called a Messenger Patronus. It can only be cast by one who can produce a corporeal patronus and the incantation is different; it's Custos Expecto Loquentes meaning, 'I await a talking guardian'. Just as Expecto Patronum means 'I await a guardian'."

"What did she mean, 'I'll be there'?"

"Picquery used to be the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, or MACUSA as it's called, during 1926 and she still has a lot of political influence. One way or another, she's going to man-handle the British Ministry into being able to attend your hearing. She always had a flair for dramatics," he sighed in envious anticipation, "It's going to be magnificent."

Harry did not like the soft smile that now graced the other boy's face, at all, though he wasn't sure why. He understood the need to get help from someone more powerful then they were, but Percival's reaction and the use of nick-names just rubbed him the wrong way. It made his jaw clench and something like anger settle in his stomach. After a minute he was distracted from these new emotions as his brain caught up with what had been said and his Slytherin side put the clues together. "You said… you said you and she were school mates…and that she was President in 1926. How can that be?… How…just how old are you? Is this another wizard thing I haven't been told about?"

Percival had known this question, or at least one similar to it, was coming since he hadn't made any effort to hide it. He hadn't even considered, lying or hiding it from Harry, not after what Death and Magic had told him. But what exactly should he say? And should he say it in front of Harry's aunt and cousin?

Before long anyone and everyone, would know where he had been staying since the attack. If you knew how the No-Maj world worked it was not difficulty to find anyone living it it. Therefore anyone wanting to know about him would just need to come here and look into their minds, as No-Maj they had no way of preventing it. So no, he could not tell Petunia and Dudley his origins. It would be better to obliviate this last bit of the morning from their minds, but he wouldn't do that to them or Harry. Not when Harry and his family were just now making amends. He would ask Picquery to commission protective amulets from the goblins to protect them and their minds but as it was, he couldn't risk this information.

"I'm fifteen just like you," he said to appease Harry's Aunt. "I'll explain how I know Picquery but, let's go up to your room," he told Harry before turning to Petunia and Dudley. "I'm sorry but this information…. It would be too easy for someone to retrieve it from your minds and I can't chance someone using it to try to gain control of me or Harry."

They nodded in understanding as Percival and Harry stood and made their way to his room. Percival set up secrecy wards, making sure to do it wandlessly since he was in such close proximity to Harry, and who knew how the British Ministry actually detected underage magic, before they sat on the bed facing each other.

"What did you mean, someone could get it from their minds? Can wizards…read minds?"

"It's called Legilimency, a Legilimens practices Legilimency. The opposing mind art, the practice of closing one's mind from external attack, is Occlumency. One who practices it is an Occlumens and are Occluding. It would be a good idea for you to learn to Occlude. Amongst other things, it helps you keep control of your emotions…and makes detecting when you're lying harder to do."

Harry nodded, clearly mulling this over. Looking back over his interactions with Malfoy and Snape he could see the benefit in having better control of his emotions. Then he set those thoughts aside for the time being and stared at Percival, waiting for him to answer the question he'd asked earlier. In the quiet Harry observed Percival and it struck him suddenly, that by the gods, the other boy was handsome. The clothes he was wearing, that he'd arrived in, only emphasised that fact. The slacks, button down shirt, and vest… he'd discarded the tie since the first night but remembering it…. Harry snapped his eyes back up to Percival's face. However, it was only a second before his eyes wandered of their own accord to the tattoo on the side of Percival's neck, drawn to it irresistibly. His hand twitched with the desire to settle over it, but he stifled that feeling and pulled his eyes back to Percival's face.

Percival had been staring at Harry while he was distracted. Harry was thin but had lean muscles that spoke of regular physical activity, and by the tight stretched look of them he appeared to have gone through a fairly significant growth spurt recently, not that he could be considered tall by any means. His hair, as Percival was coming to find, was an absolute mess and Percival honestly wasn't sure if either cutting it short or growing it longer would help with that. The scar on his forehead looked impossibly fresh and Percival had noticed that it would on occasion looked even more irritated and raw, like it was about to burst open. It was very strange. The scar prickled every one of Percival's Auror-trained reflexes. He had spent a long-time handling and hunting down Black Magic artefacts and that scar gave Percival a really bad feeling. Harry's eyes were a brilliant green, but those glasses needed to go if Harry was going to be going into battle. Even if Percival would rather Harry didn't, he knew it would be naïve to expect or even hope that the boy would stay on the side-lines of the approaching war, certainly not when Death and Magic had intimated that he would have a major role.

He took a breath and finally began to speak, "Physically, I am actually fifteen years old. However, I'm out of my time. Before I was… de-aged, I was 39 years old and the Director of Magical Security at MACUSA. I worked closely with Seraphina Picquery and my Aurors. In… late in 1926, I was ambushed and held captive by Gellert Grindelwald. He assumed my identity for reasons I still don't know. I can only guess he needed the freedom to work unquestioned and the power to give orders to the whole of the MACUSA Security Department, but I digress. He held me for… weeks, months maybe. But a few weeks ago, in my time, he just stopped coming to feed and torture me. Slowly I began to starve. Then one day I realised I was dying. Every cell in my body, my soul, was telling me that it was time. And that's when They came. They didn't really introduce themselves to me, but I learned who, or rather what, they were. They appeared as a man and a woman, and told me they were Gods, showed me it too. The male's identity was Death and the female was Magic. They… 'offered' me a second life. But I would be taken out of my time, to help in the fight to bring down another Dark Lord. My main… goal, I suppose you could say, is to bring Magic back. She told me that Wizarding Britain had stagnated, and Her people were losing their connection to her. I'm to help with this, and to cause problems and general mayhem for a lot of people including, as they put it, 'a certain meddler'."

"Is that what your tattoo is? A sign of them doing…whatever. Or you working as their agent?"

What a time for Harry to start asking discerning questions, Percival thought, and yet he was still so naïve and oblivious. "Not as such. Death marked me with it. Said it was a red herring for the meddler, to keep him distracted. And that I was… a… gift… to his favoured and that for those who knew of such things, it would tell them who I belonged to."

If the thing with Picquery had settled a fire-like anger in his gut, the idea that Percival belonged to someone was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. "And who… do you…belong to?" Harry asked icily.

Percival really didn't want to answer. He didn't really want their dynamic to change so soon. What they had, what they were building, whatever it was, would change irrevocably if Harry knew that Percival was, for all intents and purposes, his. But refusing to answer would also… break the fragile little trust that had developed. It would be best if Harry figured it out on his own, but Percival couldn't see that happening, not with the way this was playing out.

"It's the Mark of the Master of Death, who…technically hasn't…taken up the mantle yet?" Percival hedged.

"That's not really an answer, Percival. And I don't know who or what the Master of Death is," Harry replied tonelessly.

Percival winced slightly. "There are three magical objects: a Cloak of Invisibly, the Resurrection Stone, and the Elder Wand, said to have been gifted to three brothers by Death itself. There is an old Wizarding story that says that the one who unites and masters all three is the Master of Death. Death said that in every universe it is the same person who becomes this Master. This person is Death's favoured. He said I was a gift because his favoured needed someone that would always be on his side, to teach him and care for him."

Harry mulled that over, only slightly appeased. So… it didn't necessarily have a romantic connotation, did it..? Wait… what was Harry thinking? Romantic…. Was he? No. He couldn't be… attracted to Percival like….like that, could he? He….he liked girls…like…like Cho Chang and….and…and he couldn't really think of any other girls at that exact moment. Sure, Harry knew that he thought some guys were good looking like the Tom Riddle from the diary, Oliver Wood and even Cedric Diggory but that was just…that was because it was a fact, everyone knew they were handsome right? Not because he liked guys. His brain shut down and suddenly he didn't want to know more about the Master of Death situation.

"Harry?" Asked Percival, concernedly. Harry's face had shifted through a multitude of emotions and Percival honestly didn't understand what he was thinking right now. He was afraid of what it meant though.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped thinking. "I'm… I'm fine. Just…thinking….. something."

Percival nodded cautiously. "Well, there's… not much else to the story. I accepted their offer and when I got my bearings I was in the park right before the Dementors showed up."

"So, you came from 1926? What was that like? You said you were the Director of Magical Security. Is that anything like being an Auror?"

And just like that an uncomfortable topic was avoided and they whiled away the rest of the morning talking about American life in the 1920's. At midday they returned to the dining room for lunch with Petunia and Dudley and spent the afternoon playing board games. Petunia totally wiped the floor with them, even when Harry and Percival teamed up together and Dudley began cheating shamelessly.

Shortly after dinner, two owls and the Muggle mail carrier showed up, never mind that it was getting late. The first owl was a magnificent beast made for speed and hunting, it was wearing an official Gringotts' messenger harness and was accompanied by Hedwig, who looked rather put out at not having anything to deliver.

Percival let the bird bite his finger to draw blood and smeared it on the flap of the letter carrying compartment. It glowed golden and unlatched. He waved a hand absently to clean off any remaining blood and reached in to lift out the thick bundle of parchment inside. He looked down at the note in Picquery's hand-writing that lay on top.

_ Percival,_

_ Just in case someone tries to separate you from young Mr. Potter, you can bring up Section 13 subsection 26-A, commonly referred to as Cases of 'No Coincidence' in ICW Rulings of 1557. It states that if a Temporally or Dimensionally displaced being (here after referred to as the Displaced) arrives in the local Time or Dimension at a location and time which expedites them saving another being (here after referred to as the Saved) from mortal peril, then it is assumed they have been placed at that exact time and location due to divine action. The Saved is then legally responsible for the integration and general well-being of the Displaced. Attempts to separate the Saved from the Displaced are considered sacrilegious. The placement cannot be overridden by any government or entity or establishment. _

_ However, for added protection since you are now bodily underaged, I believe it would be wise if you would accept to be under my guardianship. I will help you in any way I can, please know this._

_ Seraphina Picquery_

He looked up when he heard the triumphant noise Vernon Dursley let out. "Look here, Pet! We've won the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition! Take that, Number Seven! This calls for our Sunday best!" And with that he clambered up the stairs.

Petunia's hands were fluttering nervously up near her mouth. "Oh dear," she was saying. "You know he won't allow you to come with us."

Even though she was talking to Harry, it was Percival who answered, "Considering the time the letter came and the utterly long and ridiculously mundane name, it's probably a ploy to get you all out of the house so that whoever it is can come pick up Harry without being worried about breaking the Statute of Secrecy."

"So we didn't actually win a competition?" She asked, a little disappointed; Number Seven really did need to be taken down a few pegs about their lawn.

"Probably not but it is in London, so you could turn it into a nice dinner. It's early enough that you book a hotel for the night if you wanted. Think of it as a family outing."

"That… that does sound nice," she nodded vaguely.

"Not to mention if we're gone when you get back, it will be a nice surprise for your Husband. You should go get ready. Harry and I will do the same. They probably won't come before it's completely dark."

Harry didn't have a whole lot to pack, just his parchment, writing utensils, some books, the summer homework, that he had been so bored he had actually started doing, and his clothes. It only took one look at the latter for Percival to decide that none of them were in any condition to be kept (he had already expected this after seeing the clothes Harry had been wearing around the house). He promptly announced that Harry would be getting new clothes, mundane and magical as well as a special set of robes for the hearing. When Harry tried to convince him it wasn't necessary, that his clothes were fine, Percival told him that he was the Heir of a Noble House and he needed to start acting and dressing like it, which did not include wearing ragged hand-me-downs and school-standard robes. After a short argument Harry conceded the point.

When the family were ready to leave Vernon tried to lock the boys in Harry's room, he only stopped when Petunia finally cried, "For heaven's sake, Vernon! They aren't going to burn the place down! We are not going to lock a guest in a room simply because we are leaving! Those two are responsible enough to house sit and I won't hear a word more on this matter, unless you want to sleep in the guest room for the next month?!" Vernon promptly stuttered a syrup-sweet apology and agreed with his wife and then they were out the door.

Harry and Percival just looked at each other before Harry said, "So, should we wait for them in my room or down stairs?"

"Down stairs would probably be better. It will be hours yet before they arrive. We can take your things to the conservatory. I have some reading to do while we wait, so we'll be more comfortable in there. By the way, did you keep all the magical newspapers from this summer? I would like to read those as well."

So, they sat, Percival catching up with significant events and the current political climate and Harry re-doing bits of his summer homework. Percival's arrival had sparked the Slytherin side of him that he had buried deep inside during the years in the house of lions; he found himself questioning things more deeply. The ambition that had died a painful and slow death in primary school roared back to life with a vengeance. No longer did he wish to just coast through his classes. No. He would learn. He would achieve, and he would do himself, and his family, proud. So along with the usual homework, he was going back over his textbooks from the previous years, it was frankly astonishing just how much he had missed or only half understood, primarily magical theory.

At one-point Harry got up to make tea, Percival joined him, and made sandwiches for them before they returned to the table with the drinks and food. A comfortable silence settled over the room, it was peaceful in a way that Harry had rarely encountered except for when he roamed the halls at Hogwarts at night by himself. He had nothing against Ron and Hermione, but they had… very loud auras. His mind and aura were battered by the rough sea that emanated from them even if they were only sitting near him being quiet, or as quiet as Ron ever got. Percival's presence wasn't intrusive at all, it was just steady, like the smooth flow of water in a stream, it seemed to offer silent support if he wanted it.

Percival felt his spine stiffen as he felt several magical beings enter the garden. "Someone is here," he replied to Harry's questioning look. They packed up as quickly as possible and were waiting across the room at the doorway to the hall, slightly hidden from the view of the back door before the lock of the back door clicked open.

Voices drifted towards them and Harry couldn't help but mutter, "They're not very quiet, these escorts." Percival let out a silent snort and Harry grinned back.

Percival smirked before saying, "Get behind the wall; they might let off spells," as his hand started inching towards the light switch giving Harry plenty of time to understand what his plan was and duck behind the corner.

With a click light suddenly flooded the kitchen. The intruders erupted into shouts, it was pandemonium, and there was indeed a light show. Harry doubled over in silent laughter as Percival grinned like a cat that caught the canary. They schooled their expressions, but Harry's eye suddenly sparkled with mischief. His blank face lost its fight briefly with his smirk, before he wrestled it under control and adopted a look of wide eyed innocence. He led the way, raising his wand, after all even if they were expecting someone to pick them up it could have been anyone actually entering his house.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out. You already damn near blinded us," a low, growling voice said. Even though Harry had never actually met the man, he'd recognise that voice anywhere.

Harry maintained his innocent face despite the surprise, "Blinded? Really? It's just the kitchen light. However, using my own experience with you as an example, with a bit of polyjuice potions you could literally be anyone, Professor Moody." He could practically feel Percival smirking at his back.

Moody threw his head back and released a great booming laugh. "Good lad, CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Though I don't know much about the 'Professor' part; didn't get around to much teaching, did I?"

"It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away." Harry's hackles raised, he knew that voice too, though he hadn't heard it for more than a year. He had been a bit distracted with Moody to really pay attention to the rest of the people gathered in the kitchen but yes, there was Professor Lupin.

In all, there were eight wizards and witches. A young woman with violently violet hair was talking about how Harry looked exactly like she thought he would. The sentiment was echoed by a bald black wizard standing in the back who, like pretty much everyone else commented that Harry looked like his dad with his mum's eyes. It was a statement which had once made Harry happy but by now was becoming tiresome. No one seemed to see him as himself, they only saw how much he was or wasn't like his parents. And after the talk with Aunt Petunia about where all his features came from, he found the usual comparison to be somewhat lacking.

"Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?" Mad-Eye suddenly growled. "It'd be a nice lookout if we were to bring back a Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"And how do we know you aren't the ones doing the impersonating? It would make much more sense for this to be a plot to kidnap Harry, than for it to be a plot to get Death Eaters into…wherever it is you're taking us," Percival said bluntly, as he stepped fully into their view.

Wands immediately rose, focused on the two of them. As Harry and Percival hadn't really lowered their wands in the first place it was a bit of a stand-off. "And who… might you be?" Moody growled even more deeply than before. As if that could intimidate Percival Graves.

"He's the one that drove the Dementors off. He produced the Patronus and saved my cousin and me. And he's coming with me. He's not leaving my side," Harry was adamant.

If anything, the statement made Moody more suspicious. He moved his wand to point solely at Percival's heart. "Just showed up out of the blue, did he? Just in the nick of time to come to your rescue. Think, boy! It could've been a plot to get him into your good graces, make you feel indebted to him. Looks like it worked too!"

Percival's eyebrow rose. "If it eases your mind any," he said, raising the tip of his wand so that it pointed heavenwards, "I, Percival Graves, swear that I mean Harry Potter no harm. Only in his best interests will I act. So mote it be."

During the time he had spent with Harry his magic had been pushing him to make a vow of protection, but he would not, could not, say the words he wanted to in front of Dumbledore's people. He didn't want to contemplate what Dumbledore would do if he realised that Harry had someone loyal completely to him. As it was, swearing to act in Harry's best interests was pushing the line, it did relieve some of the pressure though. Thankfully most of these people would only take it as a reassurance and comfort.

"So, Percival Graves, is it? How did you come to show up at the exact place and the exact time to save Potter?"

"Now that would be telling," he started like a cheeky fifteen year old, before noticing the frowns after which he added more blandly, "Seriously though it was just a coincidence that I happened to be there."

Percival holstered his wand. He'd taken the time to analyse their magic and they were all light except for: Moody, who verged on dark—though there was a steel to his magic that spoke of strong morals, he had felt this before, often in aurors (Percival himself was deeply grey), the man with the prematurely greying hair and scars, whose core had a creeping Dark that spoke of creature magic. And finally, the violet-haired woman whose core was interesting: it spiked and twisted, morphed and flowed in a multicoloured kalidescope, never settling; he wondered what her abilities were.

Harry, following Percival's lead, went to tuck his wand in his back pocket when Moody yelled, "Don't put your wand there, boy! What if it ignited? Better wizards then you have lost buttocks, you know!"

"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye interestedly. His response, a 'never you mind' elicited chuckles and worked wonderfully to break the lingering tension.

"Remind me to get you a wand holster, you really do need one. Did no one tell you about them?" Percival asked Harry softly.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't even know about proper wand care until last year. As in, I didn't know we were supposed to clean it or that there was such a thing as wand wax in the first place. No one's ever really told me anything. They just kind of explain things once I encounter them and ask otherwise I'm obviously oblivious." Percival frowned but nodded anyways and turned back to the group.

Some of them were riffling through the kitchen drawers and opening the cupboards. Harry's face twitched, "Could you please not mess around in a home that isn't yours, simply because you happen to be standing in it? It's not a curiosities' museum," he said loudly.

The ones doing so stepped back, their faces going red. Harry shook his head exasperatedly. Percival's lips twitched.

"So," Percival said, "we're leaving. How are we getting wherever it is we're going and why are there so many people escorting us there?"

"We're the advance guard. You never know what information's been leaked to the enemy, boy, and we weren't going to leave Potter unprotected," Moody continued to scowl obviously deeply unhappy that Percival was there.

"So, you planned this! How are we getting there?"

Lupin cut Moody off when he looked to be getting ready to shout, "Brooms. Only way. Harry's too young to apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's work to set up an unauthorised portkey."

Percival refrained from yelling at the placid man and thought about the words he wanted to say very carefully. If this idea had been proposed by one of his Aurors for the transportation of a V.I.P. he would have very concisely told them exactly what he thought of the plan and demoted them to wand permit for a month.

"Brooms," he said carefully, slowly, weighing each word, "in a Muggle-populated area, on a clear night, with the moon bright and full, eight guards—in the advance guard only, doubtless, because this is the advance guard, there is at least one more team—all planned ahead, without informing Harry when? There are…so many holes in this plan that it is ridiculous. The whole plan is ludicrous actually. You see, a large group of people only draws attention. The chance of a Muggle sighting people flying on brooms is so phenomenally high that I wonder if you even gave a passing thought to the Statute of Secrecy. Instead of a quick in-and-out operation, you've wasted time by not informing Harry to be ready and packed, not to mention we're wasting time right now just talking but I digress. Harry being too young to apparate? Sure, but that is literally what Side-Along Apparation was made for—to transport a minor using apparation. This… is not even the sort of thing you need a plan to pull off. You could have sent a short note saying, 'get ready to leave' and at any time after that you could have simply been struck by the idea of, 'oh I think now is the perfect time to collect Potter.' No one could possible intercept that plan since there was no plan, just going…and getting him. It would have taken only one person. I really don't think his relatives would have put up a huge fuss over not having to deal with him for the rest of the summer if you had approached them in a No-Maj fashion instead of rubbing magic in their faces."

Everyone seemed to be a bit gob smacked by his cool use of logic to completely shoot down and obliterate the plan that had been the culmination of all their work over the last four days. Harry was fighting not to laugh. He, himself, once he gave the plan some thought and put away the excitement of getting to fly, had to agree that their plan had all the dramatics and unneeded flair of a plot that would make Voldemort proud, or perhaps even Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Plus," Percival tacked on, "I don't have a broom."

That was the last straw, Harry couldn't hold it in anymore and he bent double with tears streaming down his face as laughed. Finally, he brought himself under control, still occasionally gasping as he tried to straighten up.

"Fine," Mad-Eye grumbled. "We'll Side-Along the two of them. I'll take Graves, Lupin will take Potter. Vance, Diggle, Doge, Podmore go back to headquarters. Jones, tell the rear guard the change of plans. Tonks, Shacklebolt you'll accompany us. I want at least five jumps—from everyone!—before heading to headquarters."

They all nodded. Moody went to grab Graves, whose body reacted before his mind could catch up with what he knew Moody was about to do, as the memory of seeing a different pair of hands grabbing for him scoured his brain. Suddenly Moody was on his knees, Percival's knee in his lumbar spine, arm twisted up behind his body in a controlling hold and wrist broken. The others were shocked; they'd barely even seen Graves move.

Harry walked up to the pair. "Percival," he said quietly.

The other boy didn't seem to have heard, his eyes far away and clouded by shadows. He looked like a cornered man. Or at least his eyes did, to Harry, his face was utterly emotionless. Harry reached up letting instincts guide him, ignoring Lupin who was trying to tell Harry not to touch his friend, that it was dangerous, and rested his hand on Percival's tattoo infusing it with his magic. Percival gave a shuddering sigh, his eyes cleared, before the lids fluttered closed. He immediately stepped back and dropped to his knees beside Moody, in front of Harry, still not completely in control of his bodily responses. They didn't notice Moody get to his feet, nursing his arm. Harry gulped, and a shudder made its way up his spine, he didn't really understand what was starting between them. He also wasn't quite sure how to break the tableau they had formed either, so he followed his instincts again, brushing the back of his fingers over the Mark, his fingers gently trailing up to the underside of Percival's chin, silently raising his head and urging him to his feet. Percival followed the cues flawlessly. When he was on his feet, Harry allowed his arm to fall to his side.

"Percival," Harry said quietly again, a little magic infused his voice.

Percival open his eyes to gaze down at Harry until someone—Lupin—cleared their throat. Harry turned his head, eyes still on Percival's until he had to pulled them slowly away and saw the people watching on in various states of embarrassment and interest. Still following his instincts, whatever it was that had happened, was between himself and Percival, it was not meant for others.

Harry let magic fill his voice as he said, "No one may speak or communicate in any fashion what has just happened. So, I've proclaimed, so Magic mote it be."

They felt the magic binding them to Harry's words and were stunned once again. "So, mote it be," echoed Percival as did Moody.

"Well," Lupin awkwardly cleared his throat again. "We should—we should get going."

"Good reflexes on you, laddie," Moody grunted getting to his feet. "Auror-level, at least. You can protect with that." He nodded towards Harry. Percival inclined his head in acknowledgement, not quite ready to talk yet.

Lupin fixed Moody's wrist with a quick Episky and a conjured bandage, while the others went about their tasks. They apparated a total of seven times before coming to stop in an alleyway. "Stay put," Moody ambled forwards and took a small silver device from his pocket and flicked it open. The closest street lamp went out, then the subsequent ones as he repeated the action, until the whole street was dark. "Come on out now. Potter, Graves, read this and memorise it."

Harry was handed a small slip of parchment, tilting it for Percival to read. Written in narrow somewhat familiar handwriting were the words:

_ The Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place._

Harry opened his mouth to ask just what the Order of the Phoenix was when Percival squeezed his shoulder and shook his head slightly.

"Got it memorised?" Moody asked. "Good." He pulled the parchment from Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand-tip. "Now come on."

They exited the alley and came to a stop between Number 11 and Number 13. Harry looked up at Percival who whispered into his ear, "think of the parchment; they wouldn't have handed it to you for no reason. Sometimes you get more answers by not asking and just observing."

Harry nodded his understanding, trying not to be distracted by the heat of Percival's body pressed so close to his or the sound of his voice being spoken directly into his ear, and concentrated on the words he had read earlier. It was as if an extra house had been inflated between 11 and 13. An extremely unkempt, dirty old house.

Moody nudged them forwards. The door was black, peeling paint with a tarnished silver knocker fashioned as a serpent. There was no keyhole or doorknob. Lupin merely tapped it with his wand and it opened. All in all, the inside was just as grimy and depressing as the outside. He saw Percival look around in mild revulsion and tuck his hands closer to his body to avoid touching anything. Harry couldn't help the small curl at the edges of his lips or the way he brushed the back of his hand against Percival's. When Percival looked at him he just shrugged and followed as the group began to tip toe down the hall.

Mrs. Weasley bustled in from a side door and caught sight of the group. Harry was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug before she pulled back and whisper-exclaimed, "Oh, Harry! It's so good to see you dear! I thought you wouldn't be here until much later. You're looking a tad peaky. Not to worry, dear, I'll soon have you sorted out. In the meant time you look like you could do with something to eat, I'll get you a sandwich real quick dear. Dinner won't be for a while yet I'm afraid, but a single sandwich won't hurt your appetite. Now, the others are upstairs if you'll just follow…."

At that moment she caught sight of Percival and her verbal barrage stalled. Before she could recommence with a long string of questions, Harry made the introduction, "This is Percival Graves, my friend. He saved me from the Dementors."

"Oh. Well, then. I suppose we're all in your debt Mr. Graves. I'm sure my children will be delighted to meet you."

She started to turn to lead them up the stairs when Percival said, "Actually, Ma'am, Harry and I have something we need to discuss in private first. Is there anywhere we could do that?"

She looked at them, scanning their faces and body language with all the skill of a mother of seven, looking for signs of anything…amiss. Finding nothing that would indicate imminent shenanigans, she nodded and turned a sharp left to deposit them in a parlour-like room. As she left, she told them to come and find her in the kitchen, which was straight passed the stairs on the ground floor, when they were done and warned them not to make too much noise in the hall. When asked why, she told them there was a portrait, which no one had been able to remove, that when woken made an unholy racket.

Finally, they were left alone. Percival set up privacy and anti-eavesdropping wards. Since Harry didn't really know what Percival wanted to talk about, except maybe the whole thing that happened in the kitchen, he just stayed silent and waited.

Percival wasn't quite sure how to start or what exactly he wanted to say. He just knew that his magic was still pushing him, that his instincts hadn't fully settled and there was only one thing to do. He and Harry both needed the added protection that the full vow would offer them.

So, he took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "You know what happened earlier in the kitchen. I mean you might not understand it, but you know what happened. Well because of that we are… irrevocably bound. When making the oath earlier, my magic was pushing me for something deeper but as I am sure you felt at the time, what's between us is meant only for us, and that wasn't the right time to delve into it. But what I'm about to do will be an added protection for the both of us, which is why I wanted to do it as soon as possible. Because some, if not most, of the people here will not like it that a virtual stranger has appeared out of nowhere and is suddenly beside their boy-saviour. They won't like that I have your trust and that you listen to me. So please, follow what your magic tells you to do next."

And with that he knelt and, letting his magic fill and guide his words, intoned, "I, Percival Ezra Graves, swear my life and loyalty to you, Harry James Potter. I will act as your Sword and as your Shield. Ever in your best interests will I act. I will follow you in life and to death. So, I have Sworn, so Magic mote it be."

Harry's eyes glowed with an unearthly power as he laid a hand upon Percival's Mark. "I, Harry James Potter, accept your life and loyalty, Percival Ezra Graves, and vow loyalty and truth in turn. Never will I turn from you and never will I betray you. When you speak I will listen. You will be held above all others, as an extension of my will and my body. So I have Vowed, so Magic mote it be."

Magic filled the air, binding them together with heavy cords of silver, gold, and crimson. There was a peal of a clear bell, then a wave of power swept through the house and Magic showed her Blessing by cleaning and repairing the place top to bottom. She left the magics intact since all, even the Blackest of Arts, were Hers.

Percival got to his feet and looked around at the now pristine room, "Thank you. That was unexpected," he said. The words 'You're welcome' seeped into his mind.

Harry laughed, half in incredulity at the understatement and half from the rush of adrenalin that was released with the pulse of magic, "At least now you won't have to keep your hands practically glued to your sides to keep from touching anything."

"A good thing too. Could you imagine trying to sleep in a place that was as filthy as this house was?"

"I've slept in worse. Not much worse, mind you, but yeah."

"I've slept in worse too. Much worse. Which is why, if I ever have a choice about it, I never will again."

They grinned at each other for a moment before the door banged open and a familiar face with long black hair frantically entered the room. "Harry! Molly told me you and your friend were in here. Are you alright? Nothing bad happened? You're safe?"

The rapid-fire questions were enough to make Harry's head spin, when added to the hug Sirius gave him, he couldn't even think how to reply. Percival's eyebrow was twitching though.

"I'm fine. Just a bit confused about the sudden cleanliness of the place. What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in hiding?" Harry was a little stunned that Sirius was asking after him and not scolding him like his letter had implied.

"Hasn't anyone told you? This is House Black. Since I'm the last one, it's is all mine. I offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters for the Order. About the only useful thing I've been able to do," he added bitterly.

Harry didn't really know how to respond to that. After all, Sirius was an adult; it wasn't really his job to comfort an adult about the choices he'd made which had led to him being in a rather shitty living situation. So instead he just turned to Percival and said, "Sirius, this is my," -Sword and Shield, was what he wanted to say— "friend, Percival Graves. Percival, this is my Godfather, Sirius Black."

They sort of looked each other over and Harry had the distinct impression of two territorial cats circling each other before Sirius held out a hand for Percival to shake.

"Now, you kiddos should be hungry, yeah? Molly said she was making some sandwiches for you and since the meeting hasn't started yet, you two can come to the kitchen, grab them, and then go say hi to the rest of your friends. Assuming you've finished your talk."

He gave them a look that said he clearly didn't believe much talking had been involved. Harry and Percival just levelled unimpressed looks his way. Sirius shrugged and held up his hands in a 'hey, if you don't want to admit it' way. Harry rolled his eyes and followed him.

The basement kitchen was a large, cavernous space mostly lit by a large stone fireplace at the end of the room. Or it would have been if the previously undiscovered chandelier and wall torches hadn't ignited as they walked in. Harry noticed that there were a quite a few people seated at the table, including Mr. Weasley, Bill Weasley, their 'advance guard', and Severus Snape. The latter of whom sneered when he saw Harry, though his eyebrow almost canted upwards at the sight of Percival.

Percival was busy cataloguing the items in the room that could be used as possible weapons, the different cores of the people seated round the table, as well as who seemed trustworthy or useful, when he felt it. As Harry's Sword and Shield he could feel any who were sworn in some way to Harry and the man with the lank, greasy hair and large, crooked nose was definitely sworn to protect Harry, at least…some…facet of him. It felt as if he had sworn to a title of Harry's and not to Harry himself but an idea of him. And there was also some other magic tied in to it. Was that… a… an inherited life debt? How interesting.

But he was glaring and sneering at Harry and that just wouldn't do so Percival subtly placed his hand at the base of Harry's neck in a protective and possessive gesture and stared the man down. His gaze promising that he would beg for mercy long before Percival granted it if he didn't stop it this instant. The man's eyebrow rose further but their staring contest was broken when Molly Weasley started shrieking.

"Sirius Black, exactly what do you think you're doing?"

Sirius gave her a nonplussed look. "Bringing my godson and his friend to the kitchen so they can get those sandwiches and go upstairs, Molly. Why, did you think I was intending for them to sit in on this Order meeting? The one that isn't supposed to start for a good half hour yet, I might add."

"Oh," she stopped for a second before continuing as if she hadn't just been yelling. "Well, then. In that case, Harry, Percival, here are the sandwiches; I just finished them. I can take you up…."

"I'll do it, Molly."

She seemed unimpressed and vaguely doubtful but turned back to her culinary work, preparing snacks for those seated and for the meeting later.

"Come on boys."

When they got to the hallway Sirius motioned them to be quiet. They stopped in front of a pair of heavy velvet curtains and Harry's Godfather explained in little more than a breath, "My mother's portrait. When there's any noise the curtains fly open and she starts screeching. She was a pureblood fanatic and towards the end, utterly insane. So, whatever you do, don't make loud noises especially in the hall. Gods, I can't believe I'm saying that." He shook his head sadly. "I used to make as much noise as I could in this hall just to annoy her."

As he approached a series of doors he said, "We had planned on you and Ron sharing a room, Harry. But I guess we should redo the sleeping arrangements."

"I would prefer to room with Harry," Percival said. At the smirk beginning to form on Sirius' face he added, "after all he is the only person I know here."

"Sure, sure that's all it is, sure. Well, I suppose we can move Ron to the Twins' room and try that but that might only last a few days. They've been experimenting and will probably use Ron as a test subject, willing or not. My guess is he'll last a day, maybe two. Then you'll have to share with him. There're only two beds though…" he trailed off leadingly.

"We can always get someone to transfigure an extra bed," Percival deadpanned.

Sirius pouted a little before stopping in front of a door. "Well yes you can though that it will make it rather crowded. Well, here it is."

Sirius twisted the handle and pushed, revealing the room behind. Percival and Harry managed all of one step inside each before Harry was assaulted by a giant ball of brown frizz….wait, no, that was a girl with very bushy hair. Percival scanned the rest of the room before his gaze was caught on a portrait. He grabbed Sirius by the elbow as the man turned to leave and asked him, "Whose portrait is that on the wall?"

Sirius made a humming noise as he considered it. "That's Phineas Nigellus Black. Least popular Headmaster of Hogwarts. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious as it seems an odd place to have a portrait," Percival said, letting go of the man and turning back to Harry.

Sirius shrugged and left the kids to it. Even in his time Percival knew, after being on the receiving end of a tour of his friend Theseus Scamander's, alma mater, that there had been portraits of all the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts in the Headmaster's office. He also knew that all of one's portraits were linked together, such that a portrait could visit the frame in one's ancestral home and previous work office. What was peculiar was that this portrait was in a bedroom. It made considerably more sense when one recognised who they had planned to stay in this room. Percival had no doubt that it was placed here to specifically spy on Harry and to a lesser extent his friends.

Speaking of Harry and his friends, the fluffy haired girl was going on and on about how they had wanted to tell Harry everything, but Dumbledore made them swear not to tell him anything. He could see Harry getting steadily angrier, as he was reminded of his recent frustration regarding his friends and being completely cut off from anything in the magical world. What really caught his attention was when the girl said, 'Dumbledore didn't want Harry to know anything'. Percival thought Harry's question of, "So why's Dumbledore so keen to keep me in the dark?" sort of hit the nail on the head. But Harry exploding at his friends wouldn't be much help at the moment, he had just put those feelings of frustration to rest after all, so Percival made a move that he thought would nicely derail the conversation, startle Harry out of his anger, state a subtle claim, and bring attention to his existence.

He walked up behind Harry, pressing his front against Harry's back and draped his arms over Harry's shoulders. As he had thought, Harry jumped slightly, looking up and back at him. He tilted his head, briefly catching Harry's gaze before turning back to his friends, whose jaws had dropped a bit.

Harry's tense muscles relaxed before Harry said, "Uh, Guys, this is Percival Graves. He saved me from the Dementors." Percival stepped back, lifting his arms from Harry and came to stand beside him. "Percival, these are my best friends," his tone made it clear to Percival that their status was currently under review, "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

Showing all the manners his pureblood upbringing demanded, Percival shook Ron's hand and kissed Hermione's knuckles which caused a blush from her and jealousy from the other two teens. Though who they were each jealous over was up for debate.

They all stood around a bit awkwardly for a minute before Harry made his way over to a bed and sat down, Percival following him. "So… what's been going on? You said in your letters you'd tell me when I got here and now I'm here."

Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. Dumbledore didn't want Harry to know anything indeed, Percival thought. "Well, we're not allowed to attend to meetings, so we don't really…" Hermione trailed off.

Harry sighed heavily. "I meant, what's going on, that you can tell me about? How have you been? What have you been doing? That sort of thing."

They blushed and started talking about how they'd been trying to decontaminate the house when a loud crack echoed through the room. Hermione shrieked while Ron and Harry jumped but Percival had his wand drawn and had it trained on the two who had just appeared in the bedroom. They had been grinning before they noticed the deathly stare and wand on them.

"Um, Harry?" they said worriedly, eyes flicking towards their friend.

Harry was on Percival's left but reached an arm behind him and soothingly dragged his fingers across the Mark. "Percival, these are the Weasley twins. A bigger pair of menaces you'll never meet. This is Fred,"—he pointed to the one on the left—"and George." He pointed to the one on the right. When they tried to protest that the other was Fred/George Harry said quietly to Percival, "Don't let them confuse you; I was right. If you pay attention, you'll know who is who. I just provided the baseline for you." Percival nodded and committed the slightly different feeling cores to memory, so he could tell them apart later.

"How many times have I asked you not do that!" Hermione said weakly.

The twins ignored her and plunked down on the bed on either side of Harry and Percival. It was a tight fit, but the twins seemed to take pleasure from causing most everyone around them discomfort. The door opened and yet another redhead entered the room, a girl this time.

She, let out a sort of squeak when she saw Percival, but she entered the room anyway with a "Hi, Harry. I thought I heard your voice," as she moved to the less crowded bed where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

"Hey, Ginny; this is Percival Graves. Percival, Ginervra, or Ginny Weasley. She's a year below Ron, Hermione, and me at Hogwarts."

"Oh?" Hermione said suddenly interested in the boy. "Are you going to Hogwarts this year?"

"Yes, I will be. I'm fifteen but my birthday is November 13th, so I will be in fifth year with Harry."

"Any idea what house you'll be in? You do know the houses, right? Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin; the houses of knowledge, courage, loyalty, and cunning, respectively."

"Come on, Hermione, why would he want to be a slimy snake? Everyone knows they're evil little Death-Eaters-In-Training."

"A whole House, a quarter of the entire school, is evil?" Percival asked with incredulity and barely concealed scorn.

"Well, yeah!"

"And I suppose… all wizards that 'go Dark' are Slytherin and none from the other houses at all?" the scorn was no longer veiled.

Harry thought that maybe he should stop this before it turned into a row, with Ron red-faced and refusing to talk to Harry because Harry's friend had spoken to him that way and Harry should always take Ron's side and have his back, even if Ron rarely if ever did the same for him. But Harry was getting more in touch with his Slytherin characteristics and Percival's unbiased views were helping him to realise that being cunning and ambitious wasn't something to be ashamed of, and neither was being fully himself.

The whole 'all Slytherins are evil' spiel that he had fallen for at eleven no longer seemed to hold true. Why vilify an entire house, which included eleven-year-olds, as evil just because of one Dark Lord? Sure, there was also a legend, that was so old it could have started out as anything before it turned into the basis for the pureblood fanatic fever, through a game of generational chinese-whispers. And while it was true that many of the traditional pureblood families that supported Voldemort came from that house, how many had been tricked or pressured into supporting him? There were plenty of other pureblood families that weren't associated with Slytherin and Harry was sure at least some of them were also pureblood supremacists. In addition, not all of Voldemort's followers were from Slytherin, a prime example being that rat, Pettigrew.

A thought suddenly came to his mind and he abruptly interrupted Ron's well-ingrained prejudicial rant before he could really get going, "I wonder if all those proud pureblood supremacists know that they're bowing down and kissing the hem of a 'halfblood'. At least my mother had magic. Tom Riddle's father was actually a Muggle. So by their logic, his blood would be even dirtier than mine," he mused. "It would be a right laugh to be there if any of them ever found out."

The others, minus Percival seemed stunned, before the twins burst out howling. "Oh Merlin!" they exclaimed between laughs, "Can you imagine what Proud Peacocking Malfoy's face would look like as he found out he was branded by a 'mudblood'! It would be priceless! We could probably sell pictures of it!"

They all had a good laugh, Percival looking amused, even as Hermione tried to scold them for their language.

When the laughing petered out Harry asked, "So, how's the rest of your family? I saw Bill in the kitchen."

George answered, "Yeah, Bill and Charlie are both in the Order. Bill took a desk job, so he could be here and do more. Of course, it might not be being closer to home that's a benefit for him." He gave an exaggerated wink.

Fred cut in, "He seems to be giving Mademoiselle Fleur Delacour an awful lot of private English lessons these days after she got a job at Gringotts to 'elp eemproove 'er Eenglish."

George took over again, "Charlie's still in Romania. Dumbledore said he wants as many foreign wizards as possible, so Charlie's trying to make contacts on his days off. Mind you there aren't that many wizards near the Reserve, so it's tough going."

"Couldn't Percy do that?" Harry asked since the last he knew Percy was working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Harry instantly regretted asking as the others in the room exchanged darkly significant glances.

"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron told Harry in a tense voice.

Harry hated to ask, but one doesn't walk onto a battleground without trying to find out where the landmines are first. "Why not?"

"Because every time Percy's name is mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding, and Mum starts crying," Fred answered.

"That…must have been…some row…. What happened?"

"It was the first week back after term ended," Ron said. "We were about to come and join the Order here. Percy came home and told us he'd been promoted. He was really pleased with himself, even more pleased than usual if you can imagine that, and told Dad he'd been offered a position in Fudge's own office. A really good one for someone who is only a year out of Hogwarts, especially with the mess with Crouch last year; Junior Assistant to the Minister. I think he expected Dad to be all impressed."

"Only Dad wasn't," Fred said grimly.

"Why not?" Harry asked, slightly surprised. "It's just the sort of job Percy's always wanted and that your Mum has been pushing him towards."

"Well, apparently Fudge has been storming round the Ministry checking that nobody's been having contact with Dumbledore," said George.

"Dumbledore's name is mud with the Ministry these days, see," said Fred. "They all think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back."

"Dad says Fudge has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks."

"Trouble is, Fudge suspects Dad. He knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, besides he's always thought Dad was a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession. And Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family and Dumbledore."

Harry let out a low whistle. "Bet Percy loved that."

Ron let out a hollow laugh. "He went completely berserk. He said, well, he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been, you know, we've not had a lot of money. I mean…."

"What?" Harry asked in disbelief, as Ginny hissed like an angry cat.

"I know," Ron said lowly. "And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around after Dumbledore. That Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he, Percy that is, knew where his loyalty lay, and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family anymore. Then he packed his bags and left. He's been living here in London ever since. Mum tried to go and talk to him, but he just slammed the door in her face."

Percival spoke up for the first time, "I think you might be judging him a bit too harshly. I mean, sure he said some awful things, but he was hurt first. Think about it," he said over the protests. "He was all excited. He got a great job and it pays well, gives him status and prestige, influence, and he comes home to tell his family, particularly his father, the great news. Only, the man who he sought to impress, to make proud, tells him that the only reason he got it was because his employer wanted to use him to betray him family and to spy on his enemies for him. That must have hurt on a lot of different levels. Not the least of which, the unspoken assumption that Percy would betray his family by spying on you. So, he's hurt. His natural response is going to be strike back at whoever caused him that pain, to hurt them back, and the truth is often the sharpest weapon one can use. He probably has been fighting against your father's reputation. You said your Father's into Muggle things, well we all know how a lot of Purebloods react to things like that and who makes up the majority of ministry workers? The money thing might just be his point of view or something he said in anger. As for the being loyal to the Ministry thing? You do know that the Ministry, as foolish as its current Minister is, is actually the lawful entity in this land, right? And that Dumbledore and his Order are vigilantes, right? In Percy's eyes, he's just being a good citizen, a productive member of society."

The Weasleys all had a mulish look on their faces, whether from their Headmaster-Idol being spoken of as being unlawful or from the hard logic that they didn't want to hear, Percival didn't know. Hermione had a scornful look on her face. She surely had a superiority complex, he'd bet his grandfather's silver pocket watch on it. Harry didn't say anything from where he had been sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms crossed around them, but by the way he tilted his head back, laying it on Percival's shoulder, looking up at the ceiling over the bed and occasionally glancing at Percival, it was clear he was deeply considering what had been said.

They sat in silence until there was a knock on the door and Molly poked her head in. "Percival? The Headmaster would like to talk to you." She looked a bit surprised and faintly disapproving when she saw Harry's head on Percival's shoulder, but she didn't say anything.

He nodded in acknowledgement and shrugged the shoulder Harry's head was leaning against, as a signal for the younger boy to sit up. When he was in the process of sitting up Harry twisted around and brushed his thumb firmly over Percival's Mark. Percival blinked owlishly, the touch acting as a firm reminder of who he belonged to, though he doubted Harry was consciously aware that that was what he was doing or how the Tattoo tied into their relationship. To be fair, he hadn't fully figured it out himself yet.

Percival gave a brief reassuring smile to Harry, who was watching him with concerned green eyes, before he turned and walked out the door, following Mrs. Weasley down the hall. As he went he consciously erected his strongest Occlumency shields and readied himself for the verbal warring and interrogation that was sure to occur once he sat down at the table of the Order of the Phoenix.


	4. Chapter 4

Percival Graves was seated at the end of the very long, aged wooden table in the kitchen at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Which was, as defined by one Hermione Granger, 'a secret society that Dumbledore was the leader of, that he founded back during the First War to help fight against You-Know-Who'. All available seats were taken and at the other end of the table sat Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself. The greasy haired man from earlier was seated just short of halfway down the table and was watching him even more intently than the Headmaster seemed to. The rest of the table was looking at him like he was some bizarre creature in a zoo.

The Headmaster was looking very aged these days. Of course, the last pictures he had seen of him were from 70 years ago and he had not exactly been a teenager then either. His hair was solid white and long, though it had nothing on the ridiculous length of his beard. Percival absently wondered how he kept it clean since any sort of cleaning charm left hair unmanageable. The man's blue eyes were twinkling, rather distractingly so, which Percival found more than a little disconcerting. Any person who could keep an amused and merry twinkle in their eye in a serious situation was not a person he would ever trust. Not that he was going to trust Dumbledore in the least anyway, especially with the shady goings-on of his actions involving Harry. He wondered what approach Dumbledore was going to take with him: would he act the part of one of the leaders in this war and dictate terms or would he go with the benign grandfather routine? From what he had heard so far it could go either way.

"Welcome, Mr. Graves, to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Though your arrival was a bit unexpected I have to say, My Dear Boy," Dumbledore greeted him kindly, though the last sentence had a vaguely inquisitorially disapproving tone that Percival supposed was meant to induce answers and guilt. Grandfather routine it was then. Percival wondered if people actually fell for it, especially adults. Did they really allow this man to chastise them like unruly children? Though he supposed when you were over one hundred and ten years old most of the world could be considered children.

When Percival failed to respond to the bait, the man hadn't asked a question after all, Dumbledore's face fell in apparent disappointment and sorrow before he seemed to rally and start again, "Now, My Boy, I need for you to tell me a bit about yourself. My colleagues tell me your accent is American. What was it that brought you to England? And your guardian, where are they?"

Now…what should he say? Should he engender sympathy by telling them he was an… Yes, that seemed like the perfect plan. Parents names… '_Whatever you decide'_, a voice whispered to him, _'the records will appear'_. Well, how convenient.

"I'm fifteen-years-old, born November 13th. My parents recently died when they were attacked at a charity event, so my godmother is now guardian. Her work recently allowed her to relocate to London and she thought the change of scenery would do me good. She worked with my parents organising charities and such, fighting for the rights of others." Phina wouldn't mind; from what he had read, she had actually spent the last few decades doing just that. He thought that she would appreciate the opportunity to turn this Ministry on its head and 'drag it out from its ass-backwards medieval outlook' as a note scribbled in the margin of a newspaper clipping about creature rights put it.

"And what brought you to Little Whinging at just the right time to help our Mr. Potter?" There was a tone of distrust seeping in at this question, those gathered at the table appeared to feel the vibe, they leant forward and began to eye him with suspicion.

Percival forced himself to blush and look down to the floor towards his left, as if self-conscious, simultaneously giving Dumbledore the first clear view of his Tattoo. He heard the ever so slight intake of breath and fought not to smirk. Red herring indeed.

Still acting like he was about to die from embarrassment, he said, "Well it was a bit of an accident you see. I...I had decided to try the No-Maj version of transportation. But I… I got rather lost. And I didn't know how to get back or...or even when the next… 'b…u…s'," he sounded it out carefully, as if the word was unfamiliar, "would come, so I decided to walk around, hoping I would come across someone who could help. I eventually found myself in a park. There… was a group of boys that appeared to be around my own age, and I thought maybe they could help me. As I was walking up to them, I saw the sky darkening and the felt temperature drop. Everyone started running in different directions, so with a lack of any better options I just followed the last two, who seemed to be going to the same place, unlike everyone else."

"And then, My Boy, what happened then?"

Dumbledore's voice had changed in a way Percival didn't think most would note. He looked back to the table, most Order member were in various states of sympathy and/or slight horror. The greasy-haired one was watching him but was also carefully side-eyeing the headmaster. Apparently, he had noted the change too. The Headmaster himself seemed to be filled with an energy he could barely suppress, his eyes were twinkling madly, his lips were twitching, and something in his overall facial expression spoke of hunger. If Percival were the type to be intimidated by creepy facial expressions, he would have shuddered. As it was, he felt his face automatically blank of any deeper expressions.

"We ran and found cover in some sort of concrete overhang before everything went completely black. I pulled out my wand and had seen the black-haired boy, as I thought of him then, do the same. Because I'm American, I am subject to MACUSA's laws and I wasn't sure of all the…nuances of your laws for underage wizards, so I told the boy not to use his wand. I cast a Lumos, which was when we caught sight of the Dementors. I had read about them but never seen one before. However, my tutors had insisted that I be prepared for every eventuality, especially considering my… talent in Defence. So, I cast the Patronus Charm and drove the Dementors away."

"Oh!" he added, as if just remembering, "I nearly forgot, when we stopped in the alleyway, the blonde boy, Dudley, was blaming the other boy, Harry, for what was happening, so I asked him if he lived with Harry and knew about magic, which he said he did. In America, there's a certain amount of leeway given when performing magic in front of No-Maj family members that you live with since it isn't a direct violation of the Statute. You can imagine my surprise when Harry got a letter from the Ministry about underage magic use, when he had not cast any magic whatsoever, not even a Lumos. How does that even happen?" his voice unintentionally gained a subtle edge of steel at the question, lifting the veil of his normal teenage boy image ever so slightly and allowing a glimpse of the hardened warrior underneath the façade. Fortunately, only one of those at the table appeared to have noticed, as judged by his gaze sharpening, it was the greasy haired man. He had to be some sort of spy, given how observant of everything as he was.

"I'm afraid I can't disclose such information to a minor or citizen of another country. Suffice to say I am doing all I can to help young Harry." Dumbledore affected a mien of regret, that was distinctly insincere, before moving on, "But, My Boy, why did you not return to your guardian? Surely, she is worried sick?" he said as he brought forth his patented 'Disappointed and Disapproving' look over his half-moon glasses.

Percival shrugged, continuing his disaffected teenager routine, "I called her from the Dursleys' phone. She was glad that I had made a friend and agreed that if it wouldn't be any trouble for the Dursleys, that I could stay with Harry until the hearing. That way I can speak about what had happened, if Harry needs me to. She talked to Petunia who agreed it would be no trouble for me to stay. In fact, my guardian was rather relieved. When we got here, she discovered her work was going to be much busier than she had originally thought, and she hated the thought of leaving me all alone for so long. We were lucky to manage one meal together the week we arrived, so she thought this arrangement was sent by the gods."

"And I suppose this was the reason you and young Harry insisted that you come with him?" Percival nodded. "My colleagues tell me that you made an oath that you meant Harry Potter no harm?"

"What else was I to do? They were all awfully suspicious of me for some unknown reason." He heard Moody snort.

"Still," Dumbledore said rather condescendingly, "oaths and vows are a very serious matter in the magical world, My Boy. Surely you cannot promise to always mean no harm to Harry, one cannot know what the future will hold. Perhaps someday you might find that you and Harry disagree. Harry for one, harbours no ill will towards those that have… shall we say… 'lesser blood', and you, as a pureblood," he raised his eyebrows questioningly and Percival nodded, "are sure to disagree with this," Dumbledore subtly probed.

"I don't see why. Harry is my friend. As for those of… as you put it 'lesser blood'… I'm not sure what it's like here in Britain, but we make no real distinction in value between those from magical families and those from No-Maj families. Beings with magic are all the same."

"I see," Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Sadly, there are those here in Britain who believe that to come from a family of magic makes them superior to those who do not or those who only have one magical parent. The vast majority of these 'pureblood supremacists' serve a man named Voldemort," almost all those gathered at the table winced and a few gasped, "who has recently returned and is using his time to gather followers and re-establish his power-base. It is the goal of the Order of the Phoenix to fight him. We are always looking for those of talent, whose inborn sense of justice will not let them sit idly by as the innocent are killed for a madman's idea of blood purity."

The majority of people sitting at the table obviously couldn't hear how he was pitching the line of his little recruitment speech, since they were all puffed up with pride from the implied compliments their leader was bestowing on them. There were four exceptions, the tall dark man who had been identified as Shacklebolt whose face was carefully blank, the Spy's was as well though Percival could read the disgust in his eyes, Tonks the violet haired Auror was looking a bit disconcerted and Moody was scowling in disapproval. From what he had understood, through the little that Ron and Hermione gave away when they were still tripping over themselves to explain to Harry why they 'simply could not tell him anything', the Order only accepted wizards and witches who were of age and had finished their schooling. That Dumbledore was trying to manipulate him into wanting to join the Order, lest he be seen to be a selfish and unconscionable person, who would stand aside as innocents were murdered before him, told Percival that Albus Dumbledore really wanted him. Or more precisely, wanted access to the power he presumably had as the Master of Death. Percival mentally shook his head. Death had told him the Tattoo would be a wonderful distraction, and if it kept Dumbledore from concentrating too heavily on Harry, well, all the better.

"On that note, what are your intentions towards young Harry? As I'm sure you are aware, he is very important to us. Not only to the people in this room," Dumbledore gestured to those gathered at the table, "who see him as a dear family member, but also to the war. He is, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived. It is his destiny to fight against Voldemort," everyone except the spy, who winced, flinched again, "and I fear that Voldemort," flinch/wince, "will never stop trying to kill Harry." He shook his head sadly.

"My intentions?" Percival asked slowly, with a hint of incredulity. "You make it sound like I'm trying to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. Harry is my friend but I think it would be a bit presumptuous to be asking for his hand after the short time we've known each other. Besides if it comes to it, assuming he isn't opposed to the idea, isn't it his Godfather's permission I should be seeking?" Percival quirked a wry smile which when combined with his teasing tone made those around chuckle, though Snape fought valiantly against the impulse to take points for cheek and Minerva was trying but failing to look disapproving since her lips kept twitching upwards. "As I said, Harry is my friend and I stand by my friends."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, briskly changing the subject, "will you be attending Hogwarts this year? Your age and birthdate would put you in young Harry's year." He beamed happily at the coincidence.

"Yes, my guardian and I had made arrangements for me to be enrolled at Hogwarts. We've readied the necessary paperwork. Actually, it should have been sent some time in the last few days, so you should be receiving it soon."

"Good, good. Now I must ask you, my boy, about the mark on your neck. Unfortunately, tattoos are not allowed in Hogwarts," he said even as he moved forwards imperceptibly in his chair in anticipation.

With attention brought to it, Percival found himself with everyone's attention on the Mark. One witch with black hair tied back into a strict bun gasped and said, "That was the sign of the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Why would you tattoo such a thing on yourself?!"

Percival shook his head. "I didn't, it was a gift. And I was assured that although Grindelwald used it, its origin is far older than he and it is not, in fact, his Mark."

"Gifted, My Boy?" Dumbledore asked, practically vibrating. "Would you mind telling us who gave it to you?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

Percival met Dumbledore's eyes evenly for the first time. He could feel Dumbledore's mind trying to gain access to his, seeking his memory of receiving the Mark. The presence was subtle at first, trying not to draw attention to itself but as more time passed by the attempts focused more on power than finesse.

Finally, Percival grew tired of it and broke the gaze saying, "I hope you don't make a habit of performing Legilimency on minors, Headmaster. Not only is it a gross violation of privacy and misuse of authority but at least in America it is also illegal."

The black-haired witch gasped, in outrage this time, and exclaimed, "Albus! You didn't!"

Albus lifted his hands in a placating gesture, "Now, Minerva, I had to see, what if he had been marked by a sympathiser or follower of Grindelwald. We needed to know. As it was, I did not see anything; I suspect whoever did it, obscured the information."

Minerva sat back, still bristling but willing to accept his excuses. Dumbledore turned back to Percival, "I'm sorry, my boy, but since tattoos are prohibited at Hogwarts, you will need to cover it up. At all times."

Dumbledore did not want anyone to know about this tattoo. His mind had nearly shut down with shock when he had first caught a glimpse of that tattoo. The sign of the Deathly Hallows! The sign of the Master of Death! But how could this boy, this child, have collected all the Hallows? Dumbledore had been so sure, Gellert had been sure, that the wand that they had tracked to Gregorovich, the one that Gellert had stolen and Albus had eventually won, was the Elder Wand.

If this boy was indeed the Master of the Hallows, then he must have the Elder Wand. Albus would need to examine it. And if it was, well, accidents happen to wands all the time and the boy could easily get a new one, a less powerful one, from Ollivander's. Albus had thought he already had two of the Hallows: The Wand and the Cloak (which he kept in a special hidden room behind his office) as if he would give such a priceless item to a child who could barely cast. No, he had given him a regular invisibility cloak and put detection spells on it so he would know when the blasted boy was around. But now, if this new pawn was indeed the Master of Death, he would need to keep him close. Close and under his control.

"May I examine your wand? It is standard procedure for all incoming students," Dumbledore said, mentally rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"I was unaware of any school rule saying I must surrender my wand to be examined," Percival said coolly.

Dumbledore was about to answer when Minerva said, "That's because there isn't." She looked at Dumbledore disapprovingly, "Really, Albus!"

"I'm afraid I will require your wand nonetheless, Mr. Graves. Underage magic is restricted after all and it would be best to remove the temptation. I assure you it will be completely safe in my care."

Percival wanted to raise his eyebrow at the blatant misuse of power, not to mention the fact that no one gathered at the table, save a very select few (and it was a bit of a relief to see the deputy Headmistress questioning the old man), saw anything wrong or at all amiss with this situation. "I am a citizen of America, thus not subject to British Law. Furthermore, I have a special permit for the use of magic this summer. And since you are neither my guardian, and not yet my Headmaster, you have no authority to confiscate my wand."

"Now you see here," Molly Weasley butted in, "you don't talk to the headmaster that way! He deserves your respect!"

Percival stayed silent, refusing to point out that her brood all had their wands. There was nothing more to say; he wasn't letting the clearly power-obsessed old man get his hands on his wand, much less for an undetermined amount of time. However, since Magic had said the wand was a continuation of the red herring, he decided to throw the headmaster a bone, "If you must know it's 11 and ¾ inches, unyielding, elder wood with a thestral hair core."

Dumbledore's eyes lit up with a rapacious gleam.

"One more thing: What are the names of your parents and guardian? I remember a Percival Graves; he went missing during the War with Grindelwald. I believe his body was never found. Are you perhaps related to him?" The question seemed innocent enough, if one ignored the dark gleam in Dumbledore's eye.

"He was my namesake. My grandfather's brother. One day they discovered his name on the family tapestry had gained a date of death even though they had never managed to recover his body. My parents told me stories of that time. There was a huge upheaval. Turns out he had been abducted by Grindelwald and held captive while Grindelwald used human transfiguration to take his place. When Grindelwald was caught… well, they never found him did they. He must have died so horribly. He was the Director of Magical Security at the time, similar to your Head of Department of Magical Law enforcement. My parents thought he was a brave and good man, so they named me after him. My parents were Thomas Amery Graves and Andrea Callista Graves nee Walsh. You'll have to forgive me for not giving you my guardians name however as she always prefers to make her own introductions," he ended with a wry chuckle; it was certainly the truth about Phina.

"But surely she would like to know you are all right? One of my colleagues would be glad to meet with her and assure her of your safety," the Headmaster wheedled.

"Oh, that's not necessary. She said she would meet me at the Ministry on the 12th so that she could make sure I'm alright and check if I would rather go back home for the rest of summer or stay with Harry."

Dumbledore subsided, disappointed but seemingly resigned. "Well, Mr. Graves, thank you for answering our questions but I'm afraid we, as adults, have some more to discuss so if you could please re-join your friends upstairs…."

By the Gods could the man be any more condescending? Add to the fact that he had just lumped Harry and the children together and called them his friends, as if it was a foregone conclusion. It was irritating. But Percival got up and gave a respectful nod to the table and left the room, all the while feeling two pairs of eyes burning into his back.

On his way back to the room he would be sharing with Harry, after stepping around some small balls he suspected of being dung bombs, he stopped by the portrait that everyone seemed to hate and considered it. If they were reduced to using Silencing Drapes, then they must not be able to remove it from the wall. He had some ideas, but he'd have to know more before he could approach this problem in the most effective way. It was interesting that it was still in place after the cleanse.

As he opened the bedroom door, the loud roar of noise that burst out of the room ceased suddenly. It was a bit suspicious but was not something he was unused to. His Aurors had always gone silent when he'd entered the room. And, yes, he was used to all eyes fixing on him as well.

What was more interesting was that Harry was completely red-faced and had been as he walked in. Ron's ears were red, and he was blustering. Meanwhile Hermione was blushing lightly and looked as if she felt the soul-deep need to apologise to an authority figure for inappropriate behaviour. The twins were grinning maniacally, moving their gaze from Percival to Harry and back again. Ginny looked begrudgingly amused but also had some sort of deep seated… something that was not quite anger….

He could guess what, no…who they had been talking about, and no doubt they had been teasing Harry mercilessly. Ah! Teenagers! Percival would gladly throw Harry under the bus for this. The Shield thing only went so far. It did not include sibling like heckling. So, he merely raised his eyebrow at them and gave them the same look he gave to rookie Aurors who were gossiping instead of working.

"And you would be talking about, what, exactly?" he asked coolly.

And didn't it feel good to stop pretending to be a somewhat easily cowed fifteen-year-old and show the steel and authority he had worn like his favourite coat (a coat that Grindelwald had stolen, the bastard!). Harry, Ron, and Hermione all went redder. Ginny's grin took on a sadistic sharpness and the twins' grins went downright wicked.

They answered, switching between each other so fast it was almost one person speaking, "We were just worried,"

"for our ickle Harrykins here."

"See, we think, that poor,"

"innocent,"

"maidenly." Ron snorted at the word, but the twins continued on.

"Harry might have had,"

"his sweet little head turned,"

"by the big, strong,"

"mysterious knight,"

"who showed up just in,"

"the nick of time to,"

"save Harry and,"

"sweep him off his,"

"virginal," both Ron and Ginny chortled this time.

"feet."

By now Harry had become so red in the face Percival was almost worried he would pass out. Harry jumped up like a scalded cat and hollered, "STOP IT! JUST SHUT UP THE TWO OF YOU!"

To which Ginny with an almost hidden dark gleam in her eyes said, "But Harry," in a mock simpering voice while batting her eyelashes, "surely you can admit that Percival is," here she added a fake American Southern twang, "ever so handsome. Why, even you can't be strong enough to resist a dashing hero with such a pretty face."

Harry sank down on the bed to have a minor breakdown and Ginny smirked and exchanged high fives with the twins.

"Yes, well," Percival coughed, deciding to save Harry, by this point he couldn't have had much blood left anywhere except in his face.

He walked further into the room and closed the door, nudging Harry to one side so he could sit on the bed. Harry shuffled over but continued being curled up like some weird shell-less hermit crab. Percival couldn't help the reassuring squeeze he gave to the back of Harry's neck or how he let his hand trail down Harry's spine before removing it. He resolutely ignored the resultant looks.

"What else have you been talking about?"

"Nothing much," came Harry's muffled voice from where his head was imbedded in the pillow before the younger boy decided to sit up. "Just how the Ministry and the Daily Prophet, and people in general are being stupid. We covered the Dementor attack and what we've been doing. And before they ganged up on me with the last subject," he coughed, "We had gotten desperate enough to start talking about our summer homework."

With a huff the fuzzy haired girl began talking immediately. "I'm still surprised by how much of the homework you _say_ you've completed, Harry. I mean, Ron didn't get even half of that done and he had me to nag at him to do it. You know I should take a look at it, just to be sure you're doing it properly," Hermione said chidingly, leaving Harry confused as to what he was in trouble for.

Percival didn't particularly like the way she was talking down to Harry, as if he wasn't smart enough to do his summer homework or that he would lie about how much he had done or that because he had completed so much of it, it must have been done wrong and it was Hermione who could tell him if his work was right or not, even though she was a student in the same year as Harry.

But it seemed that Harry could defend himself when he pushed hard enough, and he proved it by opening his mouth and saying indignantly, "I had nothing else to do for four whole weeks, Hermione. Four! There was no news, no letters from friends," here his glare encompassed both Ron and Hermione, only Ron looked slightly abashed.

"The Dursleys didn't even give me any chores to do. I was locked in my room, with my school trunk. Is it that much of a surprise that I got so bored that I did my summer homework? After all, it was the absolutely only connection I had to magic, the only thing I had to remind me that magic was real. So yeah, I did my homework. And do you honestly think that I'm so stupid I can't figure out how to write essays after the last four years doing it? Do you think I'm so stupid that I can't understand the lessons without you looking over my shoulder correcting me every step of the way? Maybe, you think you know more about magic than I do. Or are you so egotistical that you think I could never do anything, much less learn anything, without you? Need I remind you that you are in the same year as me? For all that you're top of the year, they haven't let you skip a year! And despite not having access to my books, every summer, I still manage to do well in all the summer homework, including Snape's. I'm sorry for using such harsh words, but maybe you shouldn't just assume that you're so much better than me or so much smarter than me and that if it wasn't for you, I would utterly fail. Because it's not true, I'll tell you that now. If it wasn't for you, maybe I would have relied on myself much sooner instead of being content to coast in my classes like Ron."

Ron squawked and said, "Oh no you don't! You leave me out of this! I am staying out of this row!"

Hermione had tears in her eyes. She sniffed and said in a stiff voice, "Fine. See if I ever offer to help you with your homework again. We'll see who's right when your grades start slipping even lower. Come on Ginny. Let's go." She got up and Ginny followed with a sort of apologetic glance back.

Fred whistled, "Wow, Harry. Tell us how you really feel, mate."

George added, "yeah, it's not good to repress your emotions that way."

Fred nodded, eyebrows raised, looking very impressed. "I mean, she sort of had it coming, with her I-know-more-and-am-better-than-you attitude but did you really need to be so harsh?"

Ron nodded, agreeing with them completely but still hoping Hermione wouldn't stop helping him with his work. If he was being honest, he didn't really need her help either, he just didn't like doing it by himself. His brain really didn't like it when he sat still, except if it was for chess. But during chess, his brain was always jumping around, going from strategy to strategy and playing scenarios out in his head, so it was hardly like concentrating at all. When he did homework, he just couldn't seem to focus on it for any length of time, so Hermione's help was actually beneficial in keeping him on task even if her condescending way of teaching grated on his nerves.

"Weeeell, I probably could have worded it better," Harry answered. "But all my life people have accused me of lying, particularly about academics, and… and she's supposed to be my friend, to believe in me. That she was undermining my newly resurfaced need to do my best just hit the wrong nerve. I know she didn't know that I'd decided not to slack or coast in my classes anymore but…" Harry sighed and leaned back against Percival's side so that he was laying against Percival's left arm. "The fact that she thinks I'm so much less smart than she is, even if it is subconsciously, really irks me. I can't stand people thinking I'm stupid, I never could. Being thought of as a liar, I don't like but can take 'cause I'm kind of used to it. After having to play dumb for so long, I really can't stand being thought of as stupid."

The three Weasleys nodded, that, they could understand. Fred gave the pair of them an assessing look and said, "But in all seriousness, what is going on with you two? I've never seen you so physically relaxed with anyone else, not even Ron and Hermione or me and George and we've known you the longest."

Harry just shrugged. "It's comfortable," was all he said as he wiggled slightly against Percival's warmth.

"Are you two like… going out?" Ron asked curiously.

Percival looked over at the portrait on the wall who was looking very interested and trying very hard not to show it. "I think," he said slowly, "that whatever might happen or might not happen between Harry and I, should stay between Harry and I. I'm sure that if the situation should change you will be told about it. Until then, it's our business and no one else's."

The twins nodded, "We can respect that." They exchanged a look with each other before they somehow, although they hadn't moved in the slightest, started to loom over Percival. "However, if you ever hurt him—"

"Let's just say—"

"That we have a lot of products that—"

"Need testing and we're sure—"

"At least one of them could help in—"

"Hiding a body," they finished together.

Their entire countenance changed as they bounced up, smiled at Harry with what Percival was sure was feigned innocence and gentleness (surely those demons didn't have anything so pure as that in their souls) and said, "We'll see you at dinner, Harrykins. For now, we have products to plan and experiments to conduct."

Ron shuddered as the door closed behind them. "I'm glad I'm not rooming with them."

Harry cleared his throat, reticently, "Uhm, actually Ron, you are. Percival didn't have a room and he doesn't really know anyone but me, certainly not well enough to sleep soundly in the same room as the twins and you are their brother."

Ron gave a very loud, and very pathetic groan, it was the sort of mournful noise an animal made when trapped and the only way it was escaping was through death. "But Harry," he whined pathetically. He didn't say anything else though because he knew it wouldn't change anything and he wasn't going to force his brothers on some poor innocent bystander. He just wanted his objections known!

"Fine," he pouted. "But you tell them not to test any more than… two! Products on me in a day and they can't do it while I'm sleeping or otherwise unaware. And no pranking me if they're testing products on me. You tell them that; they'll listen to you." He scoffed. "They'd probably go so far as to pledge their eternal loyalty to you. It would be more likely than me becoming a prefect."

"Wow, Ron. That was... those conditions are very mature for you."

"Well it's not like I'm naïve enough to think I wouldn't be their guinea pig, anyway. At least this way it won't be in my sleep, without me knowing, or countless times a day. Plus, I won't be pranked. So, yeah, this way I come out on top. Well sort of anyway."

They sat in contemplative silence for a bit before Ron got up saying that he ought to move his stuff. Percival nudged Harry and looked down at him. Harry nodded and said, "Ron, since your stuff is already unpacked, why not just leave it here. You can get your night stuff and some clothes for the morning before bed but leave the rest, that way there's less chance your stuff will get booby trapped or pranked."

Ron blinked. "Really? You wouldn't mind it?"

It was Percival that said, "As long as you knock before coming in, and wait for a response. Neither of us would mind you keeping your stuff in here."

Harry tacked on, "Plus, in all likelihood, you will end up rooming back in here. Sirius gives it a day or two, but I think it could be longer with those restrictions. Still, we do have most of the rest of the month."

"Then why am I even bothering to move in the first place."

Percival said, "I suppose you could say for propriety's sake. We have to at least give it a try, because when you come back, Harry and I will have to share the bed. Or transfigure one but…." He trailed off; anyone could see the room was crowded as it was.

"Oh," Ron said. "Then I guess I can give it a go." He looked between the two of them. "Though somehow, I don't think the two of you mind the idea of sharing a bed, even if it is as small as that one."

Harry shrugged. "Uncle Vernon wouldn't let Percival use the guest room, so we had to share my bed and that one is really small. This one is half again as wide."

"What a git!" Ron exclaimed. Harry nodded in agreement.

"But at least my aunt and cousin were better. Turns out Dudley's….." he cut off as Percival shook his head sharply and subtly indicated the portrait, who quickly tried to appear uninterested and on the verge of sleep. Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion and Percival tapped his ear and eye in an off-hand way. "Turns out Dudley's actually quite decent once he's been exposed to soul deep terror and made to relive his worse memories."

Ron raised his eyebrow and pretended to twist some kinks out of his spine, so he could look at whatever it was that made his friend so cautious and had elicited a warning from Graves. He blinked slowly at the portrait. He hadn't really paid attention to it before, because in Hogwarts portraits were everywhere. They were also a common thing in most Wizarding houses. But… now that he thought about it… what was a portrait of a Black doing in a bedroom. Usually landscapes or pictures of animals were placed in bedrooms and the portraits of family went in the hallways or parlours.

He turned back to Harry and Graves, nodding his understanding, then continued the charade of stretching out kinks by rolling his neck and shoulders, sighing in satisfaction when they popped and smirking when Harry grimaced. "Well come on then, we can go tell the twins about the restrictions. They probably have loads of stuff they'd like to show you anyway."

They spent quite a while in the twins' room. Percival had been very impressed by their ingenuity, most of their creations also had practical value that could be used in a variety of ways including guerrilla warfare. He made a suggestion to them in a low voice that maybe they could try to develop a way to trap and secure a person so that they were unable to move, particularly their arms, like a permanent Petrificus Totalus, until the legal authorities arrived. Those would have been very useful if they had, had them back in his time. The proximity wards the twins had set on their room went off and everything was put away, just in time, as Molly Weasley swept in and told them the meeting was over and that she needed help with dinner.

When the group had arrived in the kitchen, Percival was formally introduced to Arthur, Bill and Mundungus Fletcher. Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Tonks were also present for dinner. While the others were cooking, Harry and Percival sat at the table.

Sirius was seated across from Harry. "Had a good summer so far?"

"Not really, it was quite lousy," Harry replied.

Sirius grinned, slightly maniacally. "Don't know what you're complaining about, myself."

Percival's eyebrow rose, and his lips twitched downwards even as Harry let out an incredulous, "What?"

"Oh yeah," Sirius nodded bitterly, "Personally, I'd have welcomed a Dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you've had it bad, at least you've been able to get out and about, stretch your legs a bit and get into a few fights… I've been stuck inside for a month."

Harry had stiffened at the beginning of Sirius' little speech and was almost distracted by the last part. Before Percival had arrived, Sirius had been the only one he felt he had left in the world. To hear Sirius, speak as though fighting for his life was just a fun little jaunt, like the things the Marauders had gotten up to in their youth, while Harry had truly experienced what fighting for your life meant, left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Need I remind you," he said coldly, "that the last time you had a 'deadly struggle for you soul', not only did it get to the point where your soul had literally left your body, but you were then captured and would be dead right now if I hadn't driven off a hundred dementors and Hermione and I hadn't broken you out of your cell? Two thirteen-year olds!"

"I was fourteen Harry!" Hermione hissed.

"Yes, thank you Hermione," Harry acknowledged absently before rounding on Sirius again. "You seem to think that facing death is some sort of fun little adventure you go on to stop your boredom and to give you stories to tell when you're havin' a pint with the lads down at the pub," Harry drawled sarcastically. "But it's not. It's not fun and it's not something to go looking for. You seem to have forgotten that it's frightening, your mind feels like sludge, your limbs shake, your brain screams at you to run, to go, to escape and most times you can't do any of that and it's so terrifying that the fear of it seems to freeze your very soul and you're a fool if you think staying in a house for a month is any sort of reason to face that, much less seek it out. Sirius, for god's sake, YOU are the only thing remotely resembling family I have left. You're supposed to be my Godfather. I am supposed to be important to you. Why would you want to futilely risk your life? And I expect a better answer than, 'because I'm bored' or 'because I don't like this house' or 'because I'm going stir-crazy and feel useless' because that, that is not good enough, Sirius," Harry gulped back tears.

Everyone seemed stunned by his outburst, except for Percival who had known it was coming as soon as he felt Harry stiffen at his side and had seen it building in the moment before Harry's incredulous exclamation. He was actually rather impressed though, especially with Harry's opening statement. This must be how it felt to watch as Percival, at the height of his power, had lambasted Aurors who had made stupid mistakes and risked lives. He wanted to sigh in satisfaction.

Sirius didn't seem to have an answer of any sort and Lupin looked torn between trying to make excuses for Sirius, agreeing with Harry and feeling hurt by Harry saying that Sirius was the only family he had left. Bill looked a bit amused while Arthur appeared to be very impressed. The twins had expressions somewhere between constipation and smirks, Ginny was just smirking but trying to hide it. Molly looked concerned, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do with a Harry who spoke his mind unreservedly. Hermione looked like she had been reminded of the earlier tongue lashing she had received and was trying to blink away a tear. Mundungus who had been passed out the whole time hadn't even noticed and was still snoring away quietly with his head laying on the table and Tonks was both concerned and bemused; she had, after all, only met Harry earlier that evening and thus didn't know if this was normal for him or not. Ron had his eyebrows up, a small bemused smirk on his face.

"Don't worry, Harry," he said, "Nothing could stop this idiot from rushing into certain death. But maybe your boyfriend could save you the grief and just knock him out before he falls through a set of deathly drapes or something."

Harry just looked at his best mate who gave him his most 'I'm an innocent in all this' look, finally he snorted. "I don't think I'm going to be dating a guy any time soon, Ron." Harry frowned.

Ron shrugged. "It's not like you've had much time to think about these things and who knows maybe you'll get dosed with a love potion; you are a rather eligible bachelor after all."

The conversation sort of stalled then until Molly announced that dinner was ready. It turned out that dinner was a lovely rich ox tail stew, prepared in a giant cauldron, served with freshly baked bread. Both of which almost ended up on the floor and likely would have if Percival hadn't sneakily supported the twins' spells with his own magic. His fifteen-year-old stomach thought that it was worth it even if it did make the twins give him calculating and intense looks.

"This looks wonderful, Molly," Lupin said, ladling stew into a bowl for her and handing it to the next person around the table.

It truly was good stew, Percival thought. The herbs and spices were different from what he was used to, but he could practically taste the love it was made with and it seemed to warm him down to his very bones in a way he hadn't realised he still needed from his time as Grindelwald's guest.

"This truly is wonderful stew, Mrs. Weasley. Not even my Mother's was this good."

At Percival's sincere words and the best cooking complement anyone could give, that it was as good or better than their mother's cooking, Molly went beet red. "You're," she cleared her throat, "you're very welcome, dear. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Have some more you've only had one bowl! You and Harry look like you need it."

Ron who was sitting next to Harry said in a voice that was only loud enough to carry to Harry and Percival, "Yeah, if you mean they look like they just got back from weeks of confinement and some torture." Harry and Percival both stiffened but Ron just continued on eating as if he hadn't said anything at all.

After which there was too much eating and banging of cutlery against plates for much to be said as everyone concentrated on utterly demolishing the frankly intimidating amount of food. When the initial flourish had settled down somewhat, Mrs. Weasley turned to Sirius and said, "I've been meaning to tell you, I think there's something trapped in the writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. It could just be a boggart, but I thought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out."

"Whatever you like," Sirius said tonelessly, indifferent to anything to do with anything in the house he hated, and thoroughly distracted as he thought about Harry's words.

"Of course, with the house suddenly being cleaned, the boggart might not even be there anymore. I checked the curtains earlier and the doxies are gone, which definitely clears up whatever plans I had for us for the next few days. But I suppose we can keep searching for any Dark items hidden around the place so we can get rid of them."

Percival blinked. "Excuse me, uhm, what did you mean by 'get rid of them'?"

"Oh, well, the Blacks were an infamously Dark family, so we've been clearing out the house of all the potentially dangerous things."

"These… 'potentially' dangerous things… they wouldn't be family heirlooms and artefacts, wouldn't they? Priceless pieces of the family's history?"

"So?" Asked Sirius, an ugly sneer on his face, "the whole lot of them were rotten and I'd burn down this house if I could."

Percival twitched, a lifetime of being taught 'family above all else' caused a deep fury to ignite in him. Percival would say he got angry about as often if not less than the average person. But his fury was something altogether different. Seraphina would agree that, as long as it wasn't directed at you, it was an awesome sight to behold. But this was Harry's Godfather, disrespectful, ungrateful, immature whelp that he was and not an enemy. So, he would do as Harry had done and keep it verbal.

"You have no respect for this House," he stated. "No respect for the ones who came before you and you would leave the ones to come after you with… absolutely…nothing. Nothing of their roots, of their family, of their heritage. Nothing to use to retrace the footsteps of the ones that had led them here. Does your irreverence and immaturity know no bounds?"

Sirius' mouth gaped opened before his face reddened and he spat out, "And what would you know?! My parents were horrible, monstrous people. And what 'ones to come after me'! I'm the last one of this wretched place! You know nothing, you pure-blooded bastard! Are you going to start killing Muggle-Borns too and start talking about being proud of your blood!"

He would have gone on, except Harry was suddenly on his feet with his wand pointed unwaveringly at Sirius' forehead. "Don't…" Harry said with death in his tone, "insult him ever again."

"Whoa, now," Lupin said, getting up and holding his hands in a placating manner. "Whoa now, Harry there's no need for you to pull your wand, put it away, Harry. Put the wand away."

Harry didn't listen, just continued holding his Godfather at wand point and staring at him with a look no one at the table had ever seen before. But of course, they had never seen it before, this was the look of a Harry who had survived a childhood of abuse and neglect, who had survived on Slytherin cunning and spite. A Harry that hadn't been needed since Hagrid has knocked down the door of that shack on his eleventh birthday. His eyes were cold and there was absolutely no expression on his face.

"Last of the Blacks, you say," Percival's fury had always been a quiet thing; he never raised his voice when he was truly angry; he just got quieter the more furious he became. "What about Harry! I suppose it never occurred to you that Harry has a right to everything, all the history in this house. That even if he didn't want the history of it, that selling it would be worth a fortune. No, instead you just… throw it out like it's garbage, without thinking of anything except your… petty, pathetic, mummy issues."

Sirius opened his mouth again but closed it as Harry shifted his stance minutely and his expression became, if possible, even colder.

It was Hermione who asked, "Harry is related to the Blacks?"

Sirius answered in a tone that was just shy of contempt, "All purebloods are pretty much interrelated."

"So, you knew this, and still decided to deny Harry his heritage. Knowing him as his Godfather, the man he looks up to in the absence of his actual father, you presumably knew that Harry's greatest desire is to have a family. Given his circumstances it's not all that hard to understand. How much of the history of the Potter's is left? Who is there to teach him? And yet you would deny him the chance to learn this part of his history? You might not appreciate where you've come from, but I can guarantee Harry does not share your view."

"Doesn't matter; most of that stuff is cursed anyway."

Percival answered coldly, "Then place it in a vault at Gringotts until a curse-breaker can work on them or until Harry decides what he wants to do with them, if you absolutely don't want them."

"I don't understand why you would want all those Dark artefacts," Molly said, shaking her head.

"I know practically nothing of my family's past," Harry said evenly, not taking his eyes off Sirius. "I'd like to learn who my family was and what they've done, where I came from. There might be a lot of dark history, but there are lessons that can be learned from that and surely there were others like Sirius."

Sirius' face went dark before he snapped out, "Fine! Fine! If you want that Dark junk, we'll put it into a Gringotts vault for when you're older."

Percival spoke again a little louder this time, "Good. It might stop them from being stolen and sold for another's gain," as he side-eyed Mundungus, who, when all eyes turned on him, sniffed and cleared his throat before extracting a silver goblet with the Black crest from his coat.

"You little thief," Sirius said. "If I'd actually cared, I'd have skinned you alive for stealing from me in my own house."

Harry finally took his wand off Sirius and sat down, still glaring at him while he unconsciously reached out to touch Percival's Mark. Bill's eyes took on a calculating gleam, one that was identical to the twins. Then Harry took a breath and removed his hand from Percival's neck, his entire face relaxing as he started to serve himself and Percival seconds unconcernedly. It really was good stew, and he never got the chance to eat fresh bread at the Dursleys, just left-over store bought that had just begun to grow mould. Hm, maybe that would be something to suggest. It could be nice, spending the day baking fresh bread of all different kinds together and making a stew to go with it. He smiled a small smile to himself. Yes, that was something he wanted; maybe he would write his aunt and ask her what she thought of it. He would even send the letter through the Muggle post to give her a bit less trouble.

Eventually everyone got back to eating their seconds or in some cases, thirds, and in one case, 'Ronald!' fourths were asked for before Molly brought out the dessert, apple and rhubarb crumble and custard. By the time they had finished Harry thought he would explode, and Percival couldn't help but smirk down at Harry's stomach. Harry just leaned back in his chair and laced his hands over his distended abdomen. He noticed Percival's look but the sight of Percival's eyes glittering in mirth made the breath catch in Harry's throat before a smile reluctantly pulled at his lips and he shook his head slowly, pushing the feelings aside to be dealt with later.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley with a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said, pushing away his plate and facing Harry, the disagreement from earlier forgotten in his changeable mood. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

There it was again, Percival noted idly, that flinch. "Why is that? Why is it that every time someone says that name, 'Voldemort'"—cue flinch— "that everyone flinches? How…exactly…does a wizard… cause such widespread and deep fear of a name that, even with a ten-year reprieve, a whole society flinches at the mere mention of the name?"

The adults were silent until Lupin said forlornly, "You have to understand, those were dark times, desperate times. You could never be sure who was on whose side."

"Now, I would believe that if I didn't know that war is like that. All war is dark and desperate with each side trying to get a leg up on the other anyway they can, even if it means turning lovers or family members against each other and using spies. Spies are essential to warfare. So, what made this war, that name, so terrifying? The real answer, if you would."

This time it was Arthur who answered, he went unnaturally still before seeming to make his decision to answer in truth. "During the war… people who spoke his name disappeared. So many people were going missing and into hiding back then that it took a while for the pattern to develop and longer still for us to realise the correlation between the two; that saying the name would bring the Death Eaters. You see, we believe that You-Know-Who had placed a Taboo on his name; to catch any who were brave, or perhaps foolish, enough to say it. It somehow told him and his Death Eaters right where you were."

Molly had been trying to get her husband to stop talking the whole time he was giving his explanation, but he ignored her, in the end she collapsed into her seat. "They're too young to hear about war, Arthur; any of them."

"Something like this is vital to know," Percival said with a crinkle in his brow. "What would happen if they, we, didn't know about this, and got into the habit of calling him Voldemort thinking it was just a silly fear held over from a war that happened before our births, and he re-established the Taboo? Which he can do now that he has a body again. We'd be hunted down, young as we are, Muggleborns too," he nodded at Hermione, "with no defence at home. Not telling us something like this is just hindering our chance at survival. Age doesn't matter when a war is being waged; no one is unaffected."

"You're still too young," she said in a desolate tone.

"Victims of war always are," Percival agreed solemnly.

"Still," Sirius said, "Harry has a right to know what's been going on."

"Have you forgotten what Dumbledore said?"

"Which bit?" Sirius asked politely, but with the air of someone readying for a fight.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know."

"I wonder, how much there is that he actually doesn't need to know, given that Dumbledore said he would be an integral part of the war," Percival said idly. "And I wonder why, exactly, Dumbledore has any say in what Harry needs to know at all. As far as I am aware, he is neither Harry's parent nor his guardian. So, what authority does he have to decide what Harry needs to know? Which, I might add, seems to be as absolute a bare minimum as he can get away with."

Hermione sputtered. "He's the Headmaster! The greatest wizard in the world, the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of!"

"Woooow. That's some powerful propaganda you're spouting over there. How long have you been indoctrinated? What proof do you have that Voldemort," seeing the flinches he thought quickly for a substitute, what had Harry called him earlier? Ah yes Riddle, "the Dark Lord Riddle ever feared Dumbledore? That sounds like the type of thing Dumbledore would spread around to create a sense of false safety in his presence. And 'greatest wizard in the world' is quite subjective. Magical Britain is very small and rather isolated. You don't even use books from other countries, how could you possibly know who the greatest wizard in the world is? So, what if he is the Headmaster of Hogwarts? Harry is not currently at school, it's summer vacation. His authority over Harry should begin and end with the school term and be strictly limited to his schoolwork."

Hermione and Molly both looked absolutely outraged and indignant and on the verge of shouting, but the others could reluctantly see the logic in Graves' argument.

Hermione rallied, "He's the Leader of the Light!"

"I don't recall Harry having already joined the Order or this war, officially. In fact, I believe you said that the Order only included 'Of Age' witches and wizards, ones that have graduated. Ergo Harry hasn't joined, and it doesn't matter who their leader is. Sure, Riddle keeps attacking him and he would never side with Riddle, but whoever said there were only two sides to a war."

"What do you mean? Of course, there's only two sides, the Light and the Dark!"

"Hm, I thought it was more Riddle and his followers versus Dumbledore and his followers. Besides, you're all ignorant to what Light and Dark even means, you've stagnated in your own little corner of the world and lost your knowledge of Magic. I don't care to explain it to those who are so blinded and certainly not right now. My point was that Dumbledore has no authority to make any decisions concerning Harry, aside from those directly relating to his schooling and only in the capacity of a normal Headmaster and student."

No one said anything to that.

"So," Harry finally said, "what's Riddle been up to? You know, other than laying low… and probably recruiting."

"How'd you know he was recruiting?" Lupin asked suspiciously.

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "Because Dumbledore is doing the same." There was a disquieting silence following his statement.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Yes, well, in any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in, he's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them at the moment."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asked.

Lupin and Sirius exchanged the most fleeting of glances before Sirius said, "Something he can only get by stealth."

Harry studied the pair of them, then looked over at the adult Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley looked angry that Sirius was telling Harry. Mr. Weasley looked vaguely uncomfortable and Bill looked… at anything that wasn't Harry.

"Let me guess," he said bitterly, "the specifics of which I don't need to know." Harry stood up and started out of the room, Percival at his heels. He stopped in the middle of the room and said coldly, "If you're not going to tell me anything useful, you might as well not say anything and get the satisfaction of being good little sheep, that way at least one of us happy. I hope it the feeling comforts you when I die because I don't have all the relevant information."

When they reached their room, Percival had Harry wait as he took the portrait off the wall or tried to anyway. "Someone" had put a Sticking Charm on it so Percival took out his wand and to use it to disable the charm (there was no way he was going to display his skill in wandless magic to a portrait that no doubt reported to Dumbledore). Then he lugged the indignant painting out of the room and threw it carelessly into a room that had a….was that a hippogriff?! Shaking his head, he returned to their bedroom.

Harry was still standing in the middle of the room, staring, regretfully, off into space. "I was much too harsh back there wasn't I? Arthur, Bill and Tonks didn't deserve those words. I don't think they would hold back as much as Molly or Lupin or even Sirius. And I… I was so mean to them."

"You were, a bit. But you wouldn't want to waste such a dramatic exit by going back down and apologising," Percival smirked. "Besides, you can say you're sorry to the Weasleys tomorrow if you feel like it and I'm sure that you can convince one of the twins to let you borrow their wand so that you can send Tonks a Messenger Patronus, or you could just apologise when you see her next. It'll be fine, Harry. You're allowed your teenage rebellious and angry phase."

Harry let out a breath that was almost a laugh and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "We should go to bed; I'm beyond tired. God, I chewed out so many people today. I never do that."

"At least you didn't have to deal with Dumbledore trying to interrogate you. I swear he tried to make me feel guilty by giving me this Grandfatherly Disappointed face at least five times."

"Yeah?" Harry said, "I hate how he does that."

"He also tried to use Legilimency on me. In a room full of people. It's highly unethical by the way, and when used on a minor, very illegal. And he managed to get away with it. In a room full of people, including three Aurors. Even after I called him out on it." He shook his head. "And that is why I want to start teaching you Occlumency." Harry nodded so Percival continued, "I'll explain the basics and we'll start you on meditation. The real teaching won't start until after the hearing. We'll have enough on our plates in the meantime."

They had just finished changing into night clothes (Harry accidentally getting a view of Percival's naked back, which caused him to blush) when Ron knocked and was told to enter. He had just grabbed his clothes when a silvery cheetah burst through the wall and said, "I will be expecting you two the day after tomorrow."

Ron raised his eyebrow. "I am curious but… 'Mione told me about this muggle law thing called, 'plausible deniability.' At a guess you two will need someone to cover for you, just in case someone asks?"

Percival nodded and decided to explain so that Ron knew it wasn't anything frivolous, "My guardian, we need to meet briefly at Gringotts. I need some changes of clothes and Harry needs clothes appropriate for the Wizengamot. Actually, you've seen what he's got, Harry just needs clothes! Not to mention, she's going to be going over the legal stuff with us for the trial, so we really needed to meet before the hearing."

"I understand. I'll see if I can get the twins to help me, maybe we can develop something to make Ice Mice change colour and say that you two got sick from eating them," he said as he walked out the door.

Both Harry and Percival sighed heavily as exhaustion settled over their shoulders. Though they would honestly rather sleep in the same bed, they knew they would need to get used to sleeping apart by the time they got to Hogwarts, especially if they were in different houses so they each went to their separate beds and fell asleep before their heads hit their pillows.


	5. Chapter 5

_ It was late. By the time he was leaving his office the moon was just a sliver in the sky, not that it was easy to see in such a built-up area. And by the Gods, he was exhausted. Three of his Aurors would be out on medical leave for the next two months after an undercover operation had gone very, very wrong. He didn't know what made that bilge-swipe of a civilian believe that he should be able to take his personal grievances directly to the Director of Magical Security, regardless of the fact that he was in the middle of the aforementioned mission. Nor how the man had managed to track him down at all! All in all, it had been a very trying day in an exceedingly long week. All he wanted was to bathe, change the dressing that covered the wound on his side, fall into his bed and not move for the next twenty-four hours._

_ Later he would realise that the civilian who interrupted the day's operations hadn't been one at all. It had in fact been the most wanted criminal of the time and he had used the contact during the operation to choose a victim and place a tracking charm or similar on him. He had just turned the corner into the hallway outside his apartment, when he was struck over the side of the head with a heavy object and felt the skin tear above one eye. It was only by the grace of the Gods that he hadn't been killed instantly. For a brief moment he had thought he was being mugged by a No-Maj and had thrown a punch, hitting a solid jaw that he hadn't been able to see through the blood dripping down his face and the black spots dancing in his vision._

_ "You really shouldn't have done that, Mr. Graves," a cold, oddly accented voice said. Percival registered the press of a wand tip at his neck, not a No-Maj then, a second before the voice spat its spell, "Crucio,". Percival collapsed stifling his scream, not wanting to give the bastard the satisfaction. "You know, this wasn't meant to be personal, Mr. Graves," the man said casually as if they were conversing on the street. "All I wanted was the access that being you would grant me. Not that I would have had a use for you after I had taken your place of course, and there couldn't be two of us wondering around wearing your face." The man slid his wand across to the other side of his throat. "However, I do not appreciate violence against my person, I'm sure you can understand that I must now correct your manners." The man tutted sadly._

_ The last thing he saw before waking up on the floor of a small stone windowless room was a pair of mismatched eyes. They were the also first thing he saw when he regained consciousness. _

_ Grindelwald tilted his head and said, "You're awake; that's good. This would be no fun if you weren't conscious. I think you need further lessons in the appropriate way to treat a house guest. Shall we begin?" He flourished his wand and all Percival could feel was….._

_Pain!_

Percival awoke with a start and suppressed the scream that was fighting its way out of his throat as he was catapulted out of his memory. He reminded himself that, it was just a nightmare. A carry over from a long distant past in another life! It took a conscious effort for him to unclench the grip his fingers had on the sides of the narrow bed he was lying on. For all that it was small, it was still comfortable, and it was most definitely not a cold stony floor. Parallel to him, was another similarly sized bed, in which a dark-haired boy lay deeply asleep. He watched the boy next to him sleep and frowned at how large the bed looked around the diminutive teen. He also deduced from the way his Harry was twitching that the other boy was also suffering in the throes of a nightmare.

The surprising amount of light that the gibbous moon streamed through the narrow window was disrupted by a swooping shadow. In the state of heightened awareness that had followed his nightmare it caused Percival several moments of alarm before he realised that it was just Hedwig. He scrubbed his hands across his face wearily and rose from the bed to open the window and allow her into the room. She landed on his shoulder.

"Hey, girl," he said tiredly, extending a finger to gentle stroke the feathers on her chest. "Harry was wondering what was taking you so long. Apparently you usually arrive wherever he is going before he does, even if he forgets to let you know where it is. He seems rather proud of the fact, you know."

Hedwig bobbed her head in agreement before bending to nibble at his fingers a bit. She then extended a leg, showing the letter attached. "Oh? So, you had work to do? Well that explains it then. And let me guess… it's from…" he turned it over to look at the familiar writing, "yes, it's from Picquery. So… after we left the Dursleys, you tracked down Picquery and decided to let her borrow your services before making your way here?"

Hedwig bobbed her head up and down for a moment, before flying the short distance to perch on the backrest of Harry's bed where she tucked her head underneath her wing, having obviously decided to have a quick nap near her wizard. Percival shook his head, smart girl he thought, smiling wryly. He flicked open the seal to read the note.

_Percival,_

_ I am not sure where you came across her, but I must ask if the bird is part Seer? She is a beauty is she not? I had just finished placing the appropriate protections around my apartment when the thought that I would have to advise you of the address crossed my mind. The moment that I had made up my mind to write to you, the owl appeared outside my window. She hooted at me imperiously. Have you ever seen a bird act like it's a queen and you're one of her subjects? I can now say that I have. Considering over the course of my career I have dealt with actual royalty on a number of occasions, it's behaviour I am acutely familiar with. Now, please ensure that she receives the treat she deserves for pre-empting my need._

_ To confirm the information, you received in my Patronus. I expect to see you and Harry the day after tomorrow, at my apartment, preferably before 8 am. For a short breakfast before I take you both shopping. In your last correspondence you mentioned that Mr Potter was raised by muggles, this concerned me, so I have arranged for a Healer. As I also figured you would appreciate ridding him of the potential hazard of his glasses, this particular Healer also specialises in optometry. He is quite renowned on the continent and though usually only works out of his offices in Switzerland, I have persuaded him to come to us. For an additional fee, he has agreed to be sworn to Absolute Secrecy. He will Floo in at 8:30 am._

_ After much consideration, I believe mundane cosmetics will be the best option for covering Mr. Potter's curse scar, and I have purchased a variety of these in preparation for our excursion. With the removal of his scar and glasses, I am hoping we can prevent anyone from recognising the child. Though I will reserve the right to apply a glamour as well if his features are still too unmistakably Potter-ish. I am concerned that members of Dumbledore's group, did you call it 'the Order'? What a ridiculous name! Regardless they might be able to identify you as well, so I am afraid you will also have to submit to having a glamour applied before we venture into Diagon Alley._

_ We will have to sort something out with regards to finances for you both, which will work in nicely with your desire to visit Gringotts first. I have made appointments with both the Graves' family accountant (who was most surprised and suspicious at hearing from me) and the Potter family accountant (who only by the grace of the Old Ones didn't cut the Floo on me when I asked for a meeting with him), at 10am. The interaction I had with his accountant leads me to believe that there might be interesting transactions to uncover in young Mr. Potter's financial dealings, so I have ordered them to audit both accounts in preparation for our visit. Hopefully Mr Potter won't feel that I have overstepped any boundaries, if you could please advise him in advance I would be appreciative._

_ I have already had our papers processed at the Ministry including your application to attend Hogwarts and your request for a permit for a summer wand license (which was approved). In addition, I have arranged for both your Animagus registration papers and OWL results to be quietly entered into the ICW archives. While on the subject of documents, a rather strange bundle of information, papers, and various forms appeared earlier, all properly back dated, and indeed properly aged, informing me of my long history of dealings with Mr Thomas Amery Graves and his lovely wife, Andrea Callista Graves nee Walsh. It was a most enjoyable read, apparently, we were very close. Oddly enough I seem to have received a number of visions of these events, I assume these were gifted to me by your benefactors. In the end I was most disheartened by the time I read through it all to the pages containing the details of their deaths. Not long after, your family Tapestry appeared in my sitting room and it seems that my dear schoolmate, Percival Graves died on January 1st, 1927. The only surviving Graves being my godson, Percival Ezra Graves. I have had the tapestry placed vault for safekeeping._

_Now it is time that I should mention the British Ministry. Once British politics were the pinnacle of honesty and integrity, but it seems over the last seventy odd years they have lost their way. Everything is very weighted towards the Purebloods from the Wizengamot down. To be honest the justice system is a joke, that is, when it isn't entirely non-existent. I'll be there for the hearing, at the proper time too. It seems as though there is more than one person who doesn't want Headmaster Dumbledore's interference, and so they have arranged to change the time in hopes of avoiding his presence (it is now two hours earlier). Fortunately, my dear friend Amelia, who holds the British equivalent of your old position, appreciates my sense of dramatics and has promised to keep me posted as to the hearing._

_ I'll save the rest until we meet._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Seraphina Picquery_

There was a small strip of parchment on which Seraphina's new address was written. Percival gazed at the writing for a moment longer before he folded it up with the letter, tapping the bundle gently against the palm of his other hand.

"First things first," he said aloud, turning to Hedwig, who pulled her head out from under her wing to blink at him slowly. "Picquery, was most impressed with you and asked me to ensure that you received the treats that you deserve. You'll have to show me where Harry keeps your treats?"

Hedwig flew to her perch and tapped a small drawer underneath it. Percival opened it, pulled out a couple of treats, dropping them into the dish and then filled up the water bowl from the jug that had been placed on the desk that stood under the window. Hedwig gave a pleased chirrup, in gratitude.

"You have such nice manners," he complimented her. The look he got back was clearly an indignant, 'My Mother didn't raise an ill-mannered fool'. Percival raised his hands in surrender; he was man enough to allow the owl to have the last word.

Percival cast a wandless 'Tempus' which showed that it was 6:45am. Not bad for a night full of nightmares; he must have managed almost 6 hours of sleep. His attention was drawn back to the occupied bed as Harry muttered something in his sleep and shifted restlessly. Back at the Dursleys he had warned Percival that he had been having nightmares every night since the end of the Tournament. Though he had noticed that they had stopped once Percival arrived and they had started sleeping in the same bed. Similarly, Percival hadn't had anything remotely like a full night's sleep in years, until he met Harry. Interestingly he had noticed that no matter what position they went to sleep in when they woke up, one of Harry's hands would invariably be touching the Tattoo.

Over the last few days Harry had started touching the Mark a lot. In fact, even since the Order members had shown up in the Dursleys' kitchen he'd been much more...tactile. It wasn't restricted to just touching the Tattoo either; it included laying against him, brushing his hand, even resting his head on his shoulder. Of course, Percival had been touching Harry more as well, he wasn't sure if it was a way to stake a claim or if it was just a means of reassuring Harry. It could be that being around the others made them both more territorial and as a 39-year-old Percival didn't want to think about that too deeply. Of course, he was inhabiting a fifteen-year-old body, and it certainly felt like he had the hormones to prove it. _Think of it as being a fifteen-year-old with the skills of a thirty-nine-year-old. You will need those skills to be his Shield-_ the dusty voice whispered into his mind.

Despite what the voice said, Harry was still only fifteen. A naive and oblivious teen, who had been given no time to contemplate the more intimate facts of life and, Percival was not at all sure where their relationship was heading. Harry… was so vibrant and would only become more so. He was like fire and shadow. He flashed, and hid in unpredictable shifts, like the flickering of firelight. He'd been hidden by the shadows that the others had lain over him, but Percival could see he was shedding the darkness with every day that passed. And it was beautiful! Percival felt as if he could almost glimpse the man Harry would grow to be and it left him aching in a way he never had before.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a noise from Harry who had begun twisting in his sheets, hands clenching and perspiration beading on his brow. His dream seemed to have progressed from 'restless' agitation to 'violent' nightmare. Percival took the two steps required to reach Harry's bedside and knelt down. He reached out a hand to touch the other boy to wake him but paused as Harry vocalised again. It took him a moment to identify the noises that Harry was making in his sleep. They weren't the typical muttering of sleep-talkers instead it sounded almost like...hissing. "Well, that's interesting," he murmured to himself. "Harry," he called softly, "wake up." The boy moaned and hissed again.

Percival laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, about to shake him awake when he thought better of it. Instead he cupped one cheek and picked up Harry's hand, raising it to his own neck. As he thought, Harry immediately calmed, relaxing into the mattress.

"Harry," he called again, caressing Harry's cheek with his thumb.

Harry's eyelashes fluttered briefly before his hand pressed more firmly against Percival's neck, there was a moan and his eyes opened for a moment. Those green eyes were still clouded with sleep when he whispered, voice sleep-rough, "My own," and tugged Percival down on the bed with him. Percival went but held himself stiffly, uncertainly, ensuring minimal body contact, wanting Harry's full consent for whatever might happen. But when Harry simply rubbed noses with him and twinned their free hands together, he relaxed and closed his eyes.

That was exactly how Ginny, who was coming to wake them, found them roughly ten minutes later. She had knocked softly on the door and peeked inside, just managing to suppress her surprised gasp at seeing the two lying together on the bed, though the hand resting on the door handle twitched as her face became emotionless a second before she called out softly, "Breakfast is ready. Come down to the kitchen once the two of you have dressed." Without waiting to see if the boys stirred, she turned and left.

Percival sighed and looked down at where Harry had sort of burrowed into his chest. "Harry, wake up, breakfast is ready." Harry snuggled in further. "If you don't wake up, I'll invite the twins to make sure you get out of bed."

Harry lifted his head away from Percival's chest, hand still resting on the Mark. "Now that's jus' evil; why 'ould you do that to me?" He whinged, sleepily. "Thought you were supposed to be my Shield and protect me, not throw me to those….. those demons." His jaw cracked open with a yawn as he finally opened his eyes fully. Harry looked up at Percival with a confused frown. "Weren't we supposed to be sleeping in different beds?" he asked, cheeks pinking in a way that they hadn't since about the fourth morning at the Dursley's.

Percival sat up, dislodging Harry's hand and replied, "We were, however, it looked like you were having a nightmare, so I came over to wake you up. You dragged me into your bed. That was only about fifteen minutes ago, I wasn't sure if you were fully awake."

Harry nodded slowly, flushing more strongly. Eyes failing to meet Percival's. "I had thought I was. Having a nightmare that is. I vaguely remember something about a long corridor though the details are all blurry. More importantly what was that about breakfast?"

"Hm?" Percival hummed, "Ah, the youngest Weasley, Ginny, knocked, peeked in, and said breakfast was ready and to go down to the kitchen after we've gotten up."

"Ginny? Not one of the boys or Mrs. Weasley? That's weird, I would have thought Ron would have been in here trying to escape the twins the minute he woke up. I suppose we shouldn't keep Mrs Weasley waiting; she really will come up after us," Harry commented, subconsciously brushing a small kiss over Percival's cheek as he got up. He staggered slightly on his way to his trunk to retrieve some clothes before departing for the bathroom. Percival blinked and shook his head, dismissing the absent-minded action as the reaction of a sleep addled Harry.

Surprisingly breakfast wasn't as uncomfortable as might have been expected after the events of the previous evening. Sirius, who was doing everything he could to make up for his perceived failings, dragged Harry in to look at the tapestry on the wall of the parlour as soon as they had finished eating. He explained how it displayed the entire Black family and who they were related to, all the way back to their origins. He pointed out the branch that showed where Dorea Black had married Charlus Potter. Apparently, they were Harry's great-great-Grandparents. Dorea hadn't been disowned for marrying a Potter, because not only was Charlus a pureblood but also a keen businessman and exemplary dueller. Rumour had it that the only person who could best him was Dorea herself. Then they followed the connections down to where there was a tiny picture of Harry. Further up the wall there were other intersections between the two families but that was the limit of Sirius' knowledge.

Harry reached out a hand to gently touch the blackened place that had once held a picture of his Godfather's face.

"It must have hurt you so much!" he said sadly. "Having them turn their backs on you."

Sirius let out a bitter laugh, "honestly by that point I didn't even want to be on here anymore. I didn't even feel it when they ripped the family magics from me, I felt like I was more Potter than Black by then."

"The Family Magics?" Harry asked curiously.

"Hmm. History or perhaps legend says that back when magic was new to the world, some families performed a task of great value to magic and so each were given a boon or gift. Well I say gift, but some would say they were curses. The Blacks were represented by a set of twins. One was gifted with the mind arts, and the other with the ability to change form, the Metamorphmagi. But each gift had a cost. Blacks are just as likely to go mad or as you have seen with Tonks, Metamorphmagi are particularly clumsy. It's always like that, magic is about balance."

"So, if the Tonks' mum was disowned, how is it that Tonks got the gift?"

"Well, that's one of the unknown mysteries of life I'm afraid," Sirius shrugged.

"Or she was never disowned at all," Percival commented, from his position behind them. "Or possibly only from that branch of the family and not the family as a whole."

"Is that possible?" Harry asked curiously, glancing between the pair.

Sirius ran a hand over his scruffy beard, "I suppose, if magic didn't agree with the decision, or if the Head of House didn't do it. I was disowned by dear 'ole mum, who wasn't the head of the House, I just assumed that my Grandfather did it later."

"Is there a way to check?"

"Well, I suppose," Sirius mumbled as he thought out loud. "I can enter this house because of the Black blood in my veins, but if I wasn't disowned by magic, then with everyone else being dead as the oldest male I would be the Head. And if I were Lord of the House I would be able to repair the tapestry with a simple….Reparo!"

Just like that several holes on the tapestry filled themselves in.

"Huh! Would you look at that! Uncle Alphard made it back on as well!" Sirius seemed pleased.

"What was the Potter's gift," Harry asked eagerly.

Sirius frowned, "I can't say with certainty as I'm not a Potter, regardless of the fact that they welcomed me into their home. But if I had to guess I would say inventiveness or perhaps creativity. James was always coming up with new pranks and his father invented SleekEazy's Hair potion."

"And the curse?"

"I think that you've felt that one already Harry," Sirius smiled. "You guys have the most damnable luck I have ever borne witness to, it can change from good to bad and back again in half a minute, you need creativity to cope with it. Maybe that was the gift. Luck the good and the bad."

There was a crash out in the Hall.

"Tonks! Little Nymphie! Come in here," Sirius yelled, ignoring his Mother as her portrait started its wailing.

The currently red-haired Auror walked in, fully dressed in her battle robes, "How many times do I have to tell you- Don't. Call. Me. Nymphod…."

"I didn't, I called you Nymphie," Sirius denied with a smirk, to elated to be overly concerned about her hexing. "More importantly look." He gestured at the wall in front of them.

Tonks' eyes followed his pointed finger right to the spot on the tapestry where her name was now written in an elegant scroll joined by a line that extended down from her Mother and Father's names.

"Holy Shite!"

Harry snorted as her hair went white.

"You'll have to tell Andy, magic never disowned her, it was only my bitch of a Mother!" Sirius crowed.

When Harry quietly approached Bill and Mr Weasley before they left for work to apologise for his behaviour, they both smiled at him understandingly and told him to 'think no more about it', before they headed out the door. Though Harry had found it awkward and embarrassing to talk to them, the warm proud smile that Percival rewarded him with made it worthwhile.

After breakfast, Hermione and Ginny immediately retreated to the girl's bedroom to work on their homework, taking a henpecked Ron with them. Hermione made sure that Harry saw her glare as she looked down at him from the stairwell. Harry didn't know what the twins were doing but supposed that as long as they kept it in their room all was well. With everyone else busy and the house now clean, Percival and Harry were left without much to do for the day, so they grabbed a few things from their room and headed back to the Library.

While Harry finished the last bits of his homework, Percival wandered through shelves, marvelling at some of the titles, being sure to keep his hands in his pockets. Sirius hadn't been wrong when he said that his family was into the blackest of Magics, at least for the last two centuries. The books were covered in all sorts of curses! However, stepping between the next set of shelves was a revelation.

"Harry!" he called.

"Hmm, where are you?" Harry called back.

As if they were playing 'Marco-Polo' Harry followed Percival's voice until he located the right set of shelves.

"It just keeps going, doesn't it?" Harry questioned, glancing back at the innumerable rows behind them.

"Yeah it appears to be some sort of stacked never-ending extension charm, so that each time a new set of shelves is added to the front a new extension charm is as well."

"It looks as if you followed it in far enough, it would join up with all the libraries in the world, doesn't it? There's so many rows!" Harry said a little wistfully. Once upon a time the library had been a safe place for him to hide from Dudley, that was until the old Librarian left and the new one was in the book club with Aunt Petunia.

Percival suppressed the urge to reach out and squeeze Harry's arm to disrupt whatever thoughts had put such an expression on his face. "It looks to be roughly a row per every twenty years. At least for the first ten rows Sirius is right, there's some really nasty dark stuff in there and I don't want you going near it."

If Percival hadn't sounded so deadly serious Harry would have protested just on the principle of not being told what he could and couldn't do, but this was obviously the Shield speaking so he nodded his acceptance instead.

"The interesting thing is," Percival continued, "that from here back it looks much more even in representation." He carefully removed a book from the shelf to show Harry the cover- _A Treatise in the Exploration of Healing Charms - by Morgan Asclepius._ "They don't come any lighter than that!"

"Right," Harry set his jaw and turned on his heal.

"Where are you going?" Percival called after him.

"To get Sirius!" Harry called back.

He found Sirius ensconced at the kitchen table, receiving an ear bashing from Mrs Weasley. Fortunately, Harry, alerted by the voices that he could hear through the closed door, didn't go barging straight in.

"You need to do something with that boy! He's being so disrespectful. It's clear to see that he gets it from you, you need to set him a better example. Staying up late! Dri…"

Harry pushed the door open and interrupted calmly, "Please explain to me Mrs Weasley, how exactly Sirius has been a bad example for me when I have literally seen him less than 5 times that I can remember."

Mrs Weasley paused in her diatribe, stunned that Harry had spoken to her in such a dreadful way once again. She turned to face him straight on, with her hands on her hips.

"That is exactly what I mean Harry, you can't speak to me that way. It's completely disrespectful and how you spoke to the Headmaster last night is just not on! I won't have it in my house."

"Well it's lucky that this isn't your house then isn't it!" Harry said snarkily before she could get up anymore steam.

"Well I never! You do not speak to you Mother that way young man!" she raised her hand….

Harry flinched violently before gathering himself turning his momentary fear into anger and roaring at her, "YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!"

Mrs Weasley yelled back without pause, clenching and unclenching her hand threateningly, "I'M AS GOOD AS YOUR MOTHER, NO ONE ELSE WAS THERE FOR YOU. I TOOK YOU INTO MY HOME, I FED YOU, I RAISED YOU…."

"YOU TOOK ME IN FOR LESS THAN TWO WEEKS EACH OF THE LAST THREE SUMMERS, AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION I WAS RAISED IN A FUCKING CUPBOARD!"

Smack!

Mrs Weasley bought her open palm down hard across Harry's face, his head jerked roughly to the side.

The world stopped. Then pandemonium broke out as Harry slowly folded in on himself and crumpled to the floor. Sirius stood up not caring that his chair slammed backwards onto the floor as he charged to place himself between the pair, arms akimbo. Percival came sprinting into the room and skidded to a stop on his knees with his arms around Harry, his back to Mrs Weasley. There was the thunder of footsteps as all of the children burst from the upstairs rooms and ran down the stairs.

"You will not lie to me again Harry James Potter," Mrs Weasley spat at the child who was cowering in front of her.

Harry turned his red-marked faced away from her.

It was Ron who ground out through clenched teeth, "In my first letter home from Hogwarts I told you! I told he was too thin; he knew nothing about magic, and he wouldn't get changed in front of anyone."

The twins took over, "Before his second year we rescued him from the Dursley's and we told you that they kept him locked up, there were bars on the windows, deadbolts and a cat flap on the door…."

"See he was in a room," Mrs Weasley began vindicated!

The twins spoke over her, "WE TOLD you that we had to recover his trunk from where it was locked up in the cupboard under the stairs, where it sat on a thin cot mattress, with a small broken top and a picture labelled Harry's Cupboard stuck to the wall."

Ginny added barely louder than a whisper, "I told you in his third year, that I snuck into the quidditch change rooms to wish the twins good luck before a game and saw the scars on his back." She glanced over at the boy who was huddled on the floor, "Sorry Harry."

Ron summarised, "We told you mum. They starved him, they beat him and yes, they raised him in a cupboard! A couple of weeks every year does not make up for that no matter how much we wish it could. Maybe if you had stood up to the Headmaster and actually taken him in like we all asked you too, even Percy. Maybe then, you could claim to be as good as his Mother. But Mum think about this, his Mum died for him, literally died for him and I know, without a shadow of a doubt that you would do that for any of us, even when we're being prays, like Percy is at the moment. Would you do it for Harry?"

The answer was written her eyes for them all to see.

"Well then don't try and act like his Mother," Ron reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "To be honest Mum, he doesn't need that from you. He needs people who are there for him, who can give him advice and guidance when he asks for it, not people who berate him for having his own thoughts and feelings. I didn't stand by him last year like I should have, and I'll always regret that. So, I'll stand by him now."

With a sob Mrs Weasley turned and fled from the kitchen. None of them knew where to look, as a strained silence fell over the group. It was the twins who broke first.

"Uh…right," said Fred.

"Yes well," added George.

"On that note I think we…"

"Have an experiment that is…."

"About to blow at any…"

KABOOM

"There it goes," they finished together and bolted out of the room.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny looked around a little awkwardly before making their excuses and following the twins. When the room was empty Sirius turned to join the two boys on the floor. With teary eyes, he reached out to touch Harry, but Percival intercepted his hand and said "Don't!"

It was then that Sirius truly looked at his Godson. Harry was curled up in a small ball, muttering to himself, a barely audible litany of 'I didn't do it,' 'please believe me,' and 'stop it, it hurts'.

"Oh Merlin! Harry," Sirius ignored the waterfall of tears streaming down his face and reached for his Godson once more.

"He's having a flashback," came a quietly spoken voice, making Sirius freeze again. "I could see that things hadn't been good in that house, just from the few days that I was there. After the incident with the Dementors his Aunt started to come round, but his Uncle…"

"Aunt and Uncle?" Sirius asked.

"That he's been living with," Percival supplied. "His Mum's sister."

"He's been living with Petunia and Vernon!" Sirius squawked. Percival nodded. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!"

Percival ignored him in favour of gently prising one of Harry's hands away from his chest and rubbing circles on it so that it relaxed enough that he could press it to his Tattoo. "Come back to me Harry," he muttered.

"Why are you doing that?" Sirius asked indicating the hand when Percival glanced up.

Percival just shrugged, "I don't actually know. It just helps, at least it does for his nightmares."

True to his word, Harry's breathing was slowing, and his body was relaxing, a minute later and they were able to sit him up leaning against Percival's chest, arm still bent up against his neck, while Sirius conjured a glass and charmed some water into it.

"Here Harry, have a drink," Sirius coaxed. Harry absently reached out his free hand to take the cup and sipped the water. Several more minutes passed before he had fully returned to himself and Sirius felt he should break the tension.

"Now Harry not that I am not grateful for you defending my honour like the damsel in distress that I am, but what was it that you actually wanted?"

Harry stared at him blankly for a minute before he remembered, "Oh, Percival discovered the most amazing thing in the library Sirius, and it proves that you are a world class prat!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "Well I'm sure that Moony could have told you that if you'd just asked but come on, you had better show me." He helped haul both boys to their feet and followed them to the library.

Sirius had never been more stunned in his life. He was one hundred percent sure that this area had not been there the last time he had entered the library, just the afternoon before the boys had arrived. He wasn't sure whether it had been the magic that had cleaned the house or his act of renewing the tapestry as Lord of the House that had done it. Either way he was impressed.

After half an hour's quiet exploration he turned to Harry, "I believe I owe you an apology. To think that I almost caused you to miss out on all of this! This might just be a history we can both be proud of!" He wrapped an arm around his Godson's shoulders as they stood looking at the shelves. Then Sirius grinned, "Moony is going to flip!"

"Yeah Hermione…" Harry stopped and swallowed.

"Yeah. About that, what's up between you and Hermione? I thought you guys were close," Sirius asked gently. Percival backed away slowly, if Sirius was going to step up and start acting like an adult that Harry could rely on, he certainly wasn't going to stop him, but Merlin help him if he let Harry down again.

"I'm just…..she…argh," Harry stopped and took a deep breath. "First of all, she practically called me a liar when I told her how much of my summer homework, I had managed to get done at the Dursleys. I get, that me having done so much is unusual, but this summer they locked me in my room with my trunk instead of locking it in the cupboard, which I explained. And I kind of had time to think, it sounds like Mum and Dad were brilliant, you know? And part of me wants to live up to that, but until I went to Hogwarts no one cared how well I did, or rather they just believed that if I did better than Dudley that I must have been cheating or lying. So, it really hurt for her to imply that. Then on top of that she told me, didn't ask me mind you, told me, that she should check over my summer homework to make sure that it was done right. As if I didn't know how. I know I haven't put in my best effort before now, but I was worried what the Dursley's would say and Ron never wanted to study, and he was my first friend. Then with everything that has gone on with Voldemort, it's hard to keep track of everything."

Harry took several breaths, "She doesn't listen to me, when I try and tell her something. I know I shouldn't have snapped at her the way that I did but….."

Harry startled as arms wrapped him up in a hug. Sirius' voice spoke from above his head, "You're frustrated and angry. It's ok to feel that way." He raised his hands to Harry's shoulders as he pulled away to look into the green eyes, "It's ok to want your friends to support you and to tell them that too. What you have to decide is what you want to do next. Are you just going to wait and see if she gets over this? Are you going to apologise but still be firm about what you said? Or are you prepared to let this friendship go? Your Mum had a fight with her best friend in our fifth year and even though he apologised she refused to forgive him, by the time she realised that she had forgiven him and didn't actually want to let him go it was all too late. I know she came to regret it. I'm not saying one option is right and another wrong, just think about what you want."

Harry considered everything that Sirius had said, "She's one of my only friends, I…I don't want to lose her, but I don't want her acting like my mother either," he grimaced. "I'm not sure how to tell her that though."

"Sometimes straight up is the easiest way." Sirius shrugged. "Now let's explore, who knows what we'll find in here!"

It was several hours later that they noticed something odd, no-one had come to find them. In that time Harry had found several interesting books that had assisted with revising his homework. Percival was curled up in a comfortable chair, that had suddenly appeared, reading an ancient Tome on defence charms and Sirius had found a journal belonging to Hardwin Black a spell crafter from the 16th century which was as deep as they had managed to progress into the shelves. Harry's stomach rumbled and there was an echoing growl from Percival.

Sirius looked up, "Surely we haven't been here that long?"

Percival quickly checked the time, it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon!

"Well goodness! No wonder you boys are hungry! Kreacher."

"Ungrateful Master, Mistress' disappointment, breaks her heart he does," the house elf muttered.

"Stop that!" Sirius snapped.

"Sirius!" Harry cried out aghast. "Don't speak to him that way."

"Harry he's a …"

Harry could see that Sirius was about spew forth insults, "He's a product of his training, just like Dobby."

"Master Harry Potter called for Dobby!" a voice squeaked.

"Dobby! I don't think you're supposed to be here," Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"Harry, a house elf can always find his master regardless of the wards that separate them," Percival stated. "Only a house elf can ward a dwelling against other elves."

"But I'm not Dobby's master. Dobby is a free elf," Harry stated emphatically. Percival raised an eyebrow at the small elf.

"Wait a second, I know you," Sirius said. "You're the Malfoy's elf, why are you here?" his voice was gruff, and Dobby cringed away.

"Stop it Sirius! I tricked Malfoy into freeing him in my second year,"

Meanwhile Percival was still staring at the elf, Dobby was trying not to look abashed. "Dobby is there something that you would like to tell Harry?"

Dobby let out a high-pitched giggle and twisted his hands in his tea towel, "Mr Harry Potter Sir. Dobby hasn't told the truths exactly. Dobby did wants to be free from the old Masters but House Elves be no goods as free elves. They gets depressed like Winky."

Harry was horrified, "But you've been free for two years! Are you alright?"

Dobby just smiled in his beatific way, "I's been waiting for my Wizard to wants to have a House Elf."

"Well who is it then? We have to tell them!" Harry asked anxiously. Sirius burst out laughing, while Percival rested his forehead in his hands. How was Harry so oblivious?

Dobby reached out a hand palm forward, "Will yous be my Wizard Master Harry Potter Sir?"

Harry was gobsmacked, "You want me?" Dobby nodded. "You'll have a wear a clean uniform and have a wage," Harry stated firmly, Dobby grimaced, "And days off," Dobby pulled his ears, "There'll be no punishments," Harry warned, Dobby gave a squeak and dropped his arms to his sides, "and if you're ill you'll tell me, and you'll rest until you are better!" Harry finished.

Dobby nodded and raised his hand again.

Harry looked to Sirius, "What do I do?"

"Just raise your hand and press your palm to his and ask Magic to bind this elf to you."

"Can Magic say no?"

Sirius shrugged, "I suppose so, though I can't see why she would."

It only took a moment to perform the little ritual and the change that washed over Dobby was instantaneous, his skin took on a healthy glow and he grew a whole inch.

"What dids Master Harry want from his Dobby?"

"Oh, um, we were just wanting some lunch?" Harry asked unsurely. Dobby popped out of the room.

"Well Kreacher," Sirius said uncomfortably. "I guess unless you can tell us why no-one has found us since we've been in here, I'm sorry to have interrupted your morning."

Kreacher looked at Sirius and stopped his mutterings to answer, "Master and Half-blood bast…."

"Stop! Kreacher you will not call my Godson that horrible word," Sirius ordered. "Just answer the ruddy question!"

"Black library is only for Black Lord and Heir."

"So how come Percival could come in?" Harry asked curiously.

Kreacher looked the visitor up and down, "Touched by the Gods he is!" was all he muttered before popping out.

Sirius was stopped from questioning Percival by the appearance of Dobby with a tray of sandwiches, fruit and butter beer.

"Thanks Dobby, this is great," Harry praised the elf, who squeaked and disappeared with a pop much to Sirius' amusement.

"So, I guess at least one of us should make an appearance this afternoon," Sirius commented as they finished their lunch. Percival and Harry glanced at each other.

Harry obviously lost the non-verbal argument as he sighed, "Fine I'll go and speak to Hermione."

"Buckbeak is in my parent's bedroom if you need somewhere to talk!" Sirius called out as Harry walked away.

Sirius turned around to face the dark-haired boy, "So do you want to explain what 'Touched by the Gods' means?"

Percival sighed, "How good are your Occlumency shields?"

Sirius pulled a face, "They got ripped to shreds in Azkaban. I've been working on improving them since Harry set me straight last night. I didn't realise how bad they were."

"Well to put it bluntly, it will have to wait until you are sure that not even Dumbledore can get through them," Percival said firmly.

"Well I suppose that's fair…..Wait Dumbledore? Surely you mean Volde…. ah, what was his name again, Riddle?"

At least Sirius was thinking about the things that he'd been told. Percival shrugged, "I don't know about Riddle, but the Headmaster made it obvious last night that he has no qualms about using Legilimency, and I doubt I would have been able to hold him out too long if I hadn't called him on it."

"Hmmm, what about Harry, does he know?"

Percival nodded, "Yes he does, as does my guardian. However, we need to teach Harry Occlumency as soon as possible. I've started teaching him to meditate but anything more will have to wait till after the trial."

"Perhaps it's something he and I could work on together," Sirius said consideringly.

"Another thing, have you had a health check since you escaped Azkaban?"

Sirius shook his head, and gave a bitter bark, "Ha! There is actually a dearth of healers in the Order. Not that I could convince them to look me over anyhow, none of them trust me. Despite being happy enough to come into my family home and use my funds to cover their expenses."

Seeing that the older man's anger was building again, Percival cut in, "And have you talked to anyone about it?"

"Only Moony, but the trust we once had is gone. He believed I was the spy and I believed he was. We are repairing things slowly, but it will be a while before I feel like I can tell him everything."

Percival studied Sirius. "I'm sneaking Harry out tomorrow," he said quietly, throwing a hand up to stop Sirius from interrupting. "We're going to see my guardian; she's arranged for a healer to come and look over Harry. I don't like that he's so thin, and there's something very wrong with that scar. I doubt everything for Harry will be addressed in one appointment, so I can ask if they would mind seeing you as well, if you would like?" he offered.

"I…I…don't know what to say," Sirius was genuinely touched by the gesture.

"You are important to Harry. You're his family. Returning you to health will help stop him from worrying, and if you are more stable then you can help him as well. I think we both know that he needs all the help he can get."

Sirius nodded, "Then yes please, I would appreciate it if you could have a word to the healer." He glanced to the side, as another thought occurred to him. "Actually, while you're out could you also get Harry in touch with a lawyer. I think the Potters had one on retainer, it might help him with the trial. It was McMillans I think."

Percival nodded. He would have to send Hedwig back to Picquery with the name. Percival wondered if they would also take on the case of a Lord who had been imprisoned erroneously, there was no harm in asking.

After leaving the other two bickering behind him, Harry headed back towards the kitchen. Discovering that it was empty, he retraced his steps to the stairwell. He stopped for a moment on the first-floor landing to listen to the noises coming from the twin's bedroom, at least it sounded like they were making the most of the Triwizard money. Ignoring the dread that was pooling in his stomach he gathered himself to climb the set of stairs to the landing outside of the room the girls were sleeping in. Once there he politely tapped on the door, pushing it open when there was a response but not entering the room. The three in the room looked up at him from their positions on the beds, Ron was sat next to Hermione on one and Ginny had her legs stretched out on her own bed. When she saw who was at the door, she tucked her knees up and patted the bedspread with a coy smile.

"Come in Harry," she invited.

"Ah, thanks Gin, but I'd like to have a word with Hermione if I could," he was proud of how he kept the tremor out of his voice. He was still trying to convince himself that there was no need for him to be nervous, she was one of his best friends after all.

Hermione, nodded face blank.

"Um," Harry started, "Instead of disturbing Ginny and Ron's work," he gestured to the papers spread out in-front of them, Ron grimaced, "Sirius mentioned Buckbeak was here as well, perhaps we could go and visit," he suggested.

Hermione nodded sharply again and rose without saying anything. Harry stepped back to let her through the doorway and followed her, to another room on the same floor. Buckbeak stirred as they opened the door, Harry bowed low and waited for the Hippogriff to reciprocate before they entered.

Scratching the animal's head, he murmured, "I wondered how you were doing, Buckbeak. I bet Hagrid is missing you." Buckbeak chirruped and nuzzled into Harry's hand. Harry continued patting until he noticed a tapping noise, it took him a moment to realise that an otherwise silent Hermione was standing with her arms crossed leaning against the door, tapping her foot impatiently, frowning at him.

"Ah sorry," Harry blushed. He swallowed, "Right well, first things first. I have a bit to say to you and I don't want you to cut me off. Do you think you can be patient and hear me out? Because if you can't there's no point me even starting," he asked in the gentlest voice he could manage.

Hermione scowled but nodded.

"Right, good, thanks for that," Harry babbled a bit nervously before stopping, he noticed Hermione's lips twist slightly upwards before she stopped them. "Ok, Hermione, you are…..one of my very best friends and that friendship means the world to me. I know that I didn't speak to you well yesterday. I was extremely stressed over a few things but that is no excuse for how I spoke to you and for that I apologise."

She gave him a half smile that stalled a bit as he continued to speak, "What I don't apologise for is the points that I made." Harry continued speaking quickly as he saw Hermione take a breath in and her lips start to move. "Let me explain, growing up any time I actually did well at school I got accused of lying and cheating so I stopped trying at all. So, to have just come from that house and for you to imply that I was lying about the work I had done was very hurtful. I understand that I don't normally get to do any homework before I get on the train, but I thought you were aware that it has always been because the Dursley's lock up my trunk at the start of the Holidays, especially as I had specifically made the point that they had locked my trunk in my room this year."

Hermione's look of shame spoke volumes, but Harry continued on, "Hermione, being in that Graveyard and seeing Cedric die, had a huge impact on me. It changed everything. Riddle isn't going to stop, no matter what I do. If I'm to have any chance of surviving this war or whatever it is, then I need to up my game. I can't afford to not put in the work now, or I'll die the next time I face him. The luck that I've had so far isn't going to be enough, sooner or later it will run out. So, I have been working through all of my textbooks. I have re-done everything starting at first year, including reviewing every assignment I've done for the teachers notes. I know you're intelligent, there's no doubt about that, but I am not dumb! Which was another thing that the Dursleys always called me. I need to have the teachers provide me with feedback and make mistakes on my own so that I can learn from them. I would have thought that, that was something that you could respect."

He raised shy green eyes to meet her brown ones.

With a smug nod she said, "I accept your apology Harry. And I must say that I am pleased at your new focus. I trust that you'll be joining us to finish off your homework?"

Harry coughed, slightly embarrassed, "Um actually I finished the last of it earlier today. I'm going to leave it now until after the trial, because I'll be too nervous to pick up any errors. But I'm intending to proofread it again before we go back to school, assuming that I'm not expelled."

"Well, ok then," Hermione huffed. "Where were you today? You didn't come to lunch! You can't afford to miss meals you know…."

Harry interrupted her in a quiet but firm voice, "I'd like to remind you that you're my friend and not my mother Hermione. Percival and I ate with Sirius, we just got distracted and were late."

"But what were you doing?"

By this point they had returned to the landing outside the girl's room, they continued speaking as they descended to the ground floor.

"Hermione, you know it isn't actually any of your business and I already told you, I was finishing my homework," Harry said flatly.

"But you didn't say where you were, and I know it wasn't in your room, because we checked."

Harry's face went blank, "Are you telling me that you entered our room without permission?" He only had one safe place at the Dursley's, his cupboard because Vernon couldn't fit, and no private place at Hogwarts. The room here had felt like it was both, despite sharing it with Percival. He couldn't his finger on why he didn't want Hermione in there, but it felt like that space had now been violated.

"Harry," she snorted dismissively, "why should you care if we go in there? Besides, Ron's stuff is in there too."

"So, you're telling me Ron went into the room and invited you in?" Harry confirmed, he could see that happening. That wasn't so bad, Ron's stuff was in there after all.

"No, of course not, as if Ron would miss a meal, he went down to lunch, but I'm sure he would have if we'd asked."

Harry huffed, but still tried to explain, "That's not the point Hermione. It's just plain rude to go into someone's room without asking, especially when they aren't there. How do you know I wasn't in the bathroom?"

"Because I checked of course," she stated as if that was to be expected. "Ginny doesn't like the shampoo you're using at the moment, did you know? You'll have to change it."

Harry blinked at her, he couldn't even comprehend all the things that were wrong with that statement, but it started with how they knew what his shampoo smelt like and ended with: why should Ginny get a say in his bath products. "Hermione, I have no words for what I am feeling right now. In future please respect our privacy and don't come into our room again unless you have been invited."

"Of course, you have no words Harry, you're a teenage boy. You're probably a little confused most of the time," there was that patronising tone again.

Harry blinked at her again, "I mean it Hermione. Think about it, we are teenage boys! Who knows what we could be getting up to in there?" Harry tried to make his voice heavy with innuendo, like he had heard the twins do. Maybe it was because he wasn't a hundred percent sure what boys could get up to himself that he was not clear enough, but Hermione still wasn't getting it.

Suddenly Fred, stuck his head over the balcony, "Yeah Harry could be blowing things up."

"Or he could just be blow…" Ron appeared suddenly and wrapped a hand around Fred's mouth, pulling him back into their room.

Harry blushed, "Right. Oh, and just so that you know. Ron's in with the twins, we're only letting him keep his stuff in our room, so they don't prank it. So, it actually isn't his room at all!"

With that last comment Harry stepped off the last stair and pushed passed her so he could enter the parlour. He shut the door behind himself quickly and listened to her walking away as he leaned against the door with his eyes closed.

"It went that well then?" Sirius asked looking up from his book, as Harry entered the library through the door on the other side of the parlour.

Harry gave a wry smile, "I'm not sure how it went, actually. I think I'll call it a work in progress. On one hand she was pleased with my new attitude to study, on the other hand I don't think she understands personal boundaries."

"Personal boundaries?" Sirius quirked a brow.

Harry nodded, "Uh-huh, like how she shouldn't just wander into a teenage boy's bedroom, because you never know what could be going on in there."

Sirius chortled. "And have there been things going on in your bedroom Harry?" He laughed again at Harry's blush, and caught the cushion that was thrown at him. "Would you like there to be things going on in there Harry?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sirius stop it!" Harry complained blushing a furious red.

"Is that it then?" Sirius asked as he settled down.

"She also can't seem to understand that I don't need to tell her every little thing about my life, like what I had for lunch and where I've been all day. And that she doesn't get to dictate those things for me either."

"Did you lose your temper?" Percival asked coming into the room.

Harry shook his head a little proudly, "Nope."

"Well done." Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment, "Kreacher!" he called.

"Yes, Mistress' disappointment," the elf grumbled.

Sirius frowned but ignored the comment, "Does Regulus' room still have a lock?" Kreacher nodded. "I had been trying to avoid using Reggie's old room, but it might just solve one problem. Kreacher I am allowing Harry and his friend to use Regulus' old room, please move their things into it."

Kreacher began to mutter, "Poor Master Regulus! His room desecrated."

"Kreacher!" Harry called stopping him, "We promise that we will respect Regulus' room, we will take care not to break anything and we will disrupt it as little as possible. Please remove anything that is valuable or otherwise precious and store it away carefully."

Kreacher eyed the pair sternly, then gave a nod and popped away.

Sirius was stunned, "That was the most polite I've ever seen him act towards anyone who wasn't my Mother or Brother, and I'm Sirius."

Harry turned to look at him, "I cannot believe you just said that!"

Sirius grinned, "So what are you two going to do with the rest of the afternoon?

\- cut -

This is the argument that Sirius and Molly are having when Harry goes to find Sirius.

Sirius was sitting at the table, it was early and to be honest he did not want to be up just yet. He had not been able to sleep last night, his mind consumed by James' no Harry's words at dinner. James would have found his words humorous in the extreme, there was very little of his Father in Harry at all.

Was he too reckless? Surely not, Jamie had never said so…..

A memory intruded of Mother Potter. She stood hands on hips, face as fierce as a lion's. Oh, the lecture she had given him and James that day! There had been a Death Eater raid. They had been told about it by Dumbledore, and had rushed off to help. It was their first battle. They had done well, even if he did say so himself, and captured a dozen Death Eaters. Frustratingly they had, of course, all released a few days as upstanding members of society who were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Mother Potter, well to say she had not been happy with them was an extreme understatement, she had given them such a blistering tongue lashing that he remembered it vividly, despite the twelve years in Azkaban. There were few memories he had that were untainted by the malaise inducing dementors.

Since then he had formed several new memories, particularly the moment in third year where he had asked a thirteen year old Harry, if he would come and live with him. The boy had said yes immediately. It had struck a cord with something deep inside Sirius. Now though, now he wondered. Sure at thirteen he would have been excited if he had a hither-to unknown Godfather appear and offer him a home, but James, Remus and Peter who had been raised in loving families, would not. What did that say about the way in which Harry had been raised. The first night he had seen Harry, as as he left Privet drive, the boy had been thin, oh so very thin and there had been a bruise above his eye, another just visible under the hanging sleeve of his shirt. And those clothes!

No something was not right. If Harry had been raised as Jamie had then he would have been a cocky little shit, who would have thought nothing of a fight against a couple of dementors. He closed his eyes and tipped his head up to the ceiling.

"Sirius Black!" A voice interrupted his thoughts on how to broach the matter with his Godson. He had hated it when his friends, as well meaning as they were had tried to talk to him about his home life.

"Are you even listening to me?" the voice became even more shrill.

"Can I help you Mrs Weasley?" he asked blandly, thoughts still on the mystery of his Godson.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"I beg your pardon?" he looked at her for the first time.

"That boy looks up to you."

Sirius just stared.

"And look at you! Clearly you spent last night drinking, and here you are still hung over.'

"I did n…"

She did not allow him to finish before she continued her rant, "He will walk in here and see you like this. That is not how a responsible adult acts."

"First of all I was no….." he tried.

"And then you encourage him to misbehave. What were you thinking? If you even knew half of the things that boy had led my Ronnie into over the last four years. You would see that he does not need any prompting. He has Minerva in knots with worry every year. To encourage that behaviour, is…"

"Will you just shut up a moment!" Sirius all but yelled, feed up with the woman.

"Well I never!" she fell silent for just a moment.

"I was not drinking last night!"

"Oh Please!" she said disbelievingly. "Look at you! I have six sons I know what a man looks like after a night of too much drink. What you need to understand is that Harry is not James!"

"I know that J….Harry is not James!"

"Well you could have fooled me. You mix up their names constantly."

"You spend twelve years in Azkaban and come out with your mind in the same state it was in when you started. I do NOT confuse them. In my head I am thinking about my Godson, but in there I was thinking about my brother. So when I go to say J…Harry's name, Jamie's comes out."

"Pft," she scoffed. "There is no excuse for calling the boy by his father's name."

"Ha, as if you can talk, you can't even call your son's the right name!"

"I have never confused one of my son's with another."

"Are you telling me you have never confused Fred and George!"

"That's different! They are twins!"

"They are your sons. And they are very different from one another,"

Molly took a huge breath in through her nose and hissed it out, "We are not here to talk about me. We are here to talk about you, and your behaviour, and how that has affected Harry. He is acting out, and I blame you. There is no way he would have spoken to everyone the way did last night, before he had contact with you."

(leads into "You need to do something with that boy!")

cut

Argument had between Sirius and Molly later that day after the children had gone to bed.

Sirius was standing in the kitchen. Leaning on his hands facing the bench with his head hanging down. It had been an incredibly long and emotional day. So many of the concerns that he had that morning had, to his utter devastation, had been proven correct. On top of that, that woman had struck him!

That thought percolated through his mind, growing stronger the longer it sat.

How dare she. Then she had spent the rest of the day in her room sulking. Leaving the children unsupervised. After the fuss she had kicked up, that once Harry had arrived at Grimmauld place he would need close supervision. It was the only reason he allowed the woman and her brood into his house. Well that and that fact that until Harry and Percival had arrived, and performed whatever magic they had to clean and brighten the place, he had hated the place and not wanted to be in it alone. Still she was a guest and the way she treated his godson, who had more right than any of them to be here, was deplorable. He could not let it stand. As Lord Black, and wasn't that a turn up for the books, he would not let it go. Perhaps he should wait? Now might not be the best time, his mind being as damaged as it was. No, if he left it too long it might slip through the cracks and be forgotten. Harry deserved and adult to be on his side. Sirius would be damned if it would be anyone other than him.

"Drinking again, Sirius?" Molly asked snidely.

"I did not drink last night and I will not drink tonight," he said calmly, not lifting his head.

"Do you see what I mean about his behaviour?"

He turned around so fast that she stepped back in fright, "How dare you!" he hissed.

"How dare I? You are…"

But he did not let her finished, "You talk about him as if he is a dog to be controlled. He is a boy, who has been abused."

"He is lying, Sirius. Surely you can see that," she protested.

"No! I know what abuse is, and I know that he is speaking the truth, regardless of what your narrow little mind sees. Your own sons, have vouched for his story. They saw him in his distress, and rescued him and what did you do? Hmm, what did you do? When he turned up on your doorstep, thin as a rail and pale as parchment. Did you report it to the appropriate authorities? Did you ask him? Did you take steps to ensure that he was safe in that house? No! You told Albus Dumbledore, who as the Headmaster of Hogwarts had absolutely no right, to any information on Harry and absolutely no say in his living conditions."

"He is the boys guardian! He…"

"He wasn't and even if he was that is even more reason for it to be reported to the department of child safety. So that they could start and unbiased investigation. You facilitated his continued abuse," Sirius was livid. There is no way Euphemia or Fleamont would have ever let a child continue to live in an environment like that.

"I did no…"

"You did. You stood by and did nothing!"

"We were going to go and get him the next week. Albus said to wait…"

"Albus said," Sirius's voice lowered. "The world would be a better place if people just thought about the words that Albus said rather than just acted on them."

"Albus Dumbledore is a great man. And we all owe him a lot. He knows what he is doing, which is more than can be said of you. Slinking around here in this dark house. Drinking all day…."

"Why do you keep accusing me of drinking?"

"You're a single man locked up in a house he hates all day, what else would you be doing?"

"In case you had not noticed, I no longer hate this house. Whatever those boys did when they walked in, has cured it of the darkness that it had. And if you must know I was sorting through the mess that had been made of my own bedroom, and sorting out the care of the Buckbeak. Talking with Remus and arguing with Kreacher. All of which was and is more than enough to keep me occupied. If you had bothered to look, only one bottle of fire whisky has been opened and that was by your eldest son, last Thursday."

"Bill would never."

"Bill would and did, and you can ask him yourself. Still, we have gotten away from the point. You did something that I can not forgive today. You struck my Godson."

"Someone has to discipline the boy, and if you are not going to act like a responsible adult, then I will be the mother he needs and do it."

"He was abused, you daft twit. You struck a child whose life has been filled with violence." His voice became low and menacing, "If you so much as harm a single hair on his head ever again, I will toss you and your family out of this house. And then you will learn why nobody ever crosses a Black!" His eyes glowed with madness, and the shadows made him appear to be towering over her. "You are a guest in this house, and you have come in and without so much as a 'by your leave' taken over the kitchen and everything else. I have allowed it because frankly I did not care about this place, but Harry has made me see that there is more than I ever thought to my family. So watch your step or you will outstay your welcome and your eviction will not be pleasant. As it is, I give you fair warning you only have until the children return to school and then you will leave."

Not bothering to wait for a response, he stalked out of the room.

\- cut -


	6. Chapter 6

Harry and Percival whiled away the afternoon hours in the library before emerging into the, now, brightly lit, parlour where they found Ron sitting on the couch staring at the place where Cedrella Weasley, nee Black, had been burnt from the family tree. Unfortunately, she hadn't been restored when Sirius had repaired the tapestry. It was odd to see the normally gregarious boy sitting quietly by himself. He blinked rapidly as they emerged into the room with him.

"This is where you've been hiding? Seriously all that fuss and you've been in ruddy the library the whole time!"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Is Hermione still trying to find out where we've been?" Ron nodded, grinning at Harry wince.

"Yeah, she wouldn't stop going on about it. It was ruddy annoying actually. Which is why I'm hiding in here. They checked the library earlier and couldn't find you, so they left. Even your bedroom isn't safe Mate."

"Yeah about that Ron," Harry rubbed a hand through his hair absent mindedly. "Sirius has come up with another option for us. He's convinced Kreacher to move us into the room next to his."

"Blimey. Really?" Harry nodded, "That House Elf hasn't let anyone near that room since we arrived!"

"Yeah well, he's been convinced now, so if Percival and I move up there, you can move back to your old room and have it to yourself again."

Ron grinned, "And the girls won't know where you've gone at least for a day or so, so that you'll get some peace and quiet, yeah?"

"And see that right there is why you're my best mate!" Harry tried to sling an arm around Ron's shoulders but due to the height difference couldn't reach and ended up with it wrapped around his friend's torso instead. Ron pushed the arm off, grabbed Harry around the neck, bent him forwards and rubbed a hand harshly over his hair, making it messier than usual.

"Oi, leave off!" Harry a squirming complained.

Ron released him, and moved to the door, before he turned the handle he glanced back at Harry, "You still on for tomorrow?" he sked quietly.

Harry nodded, and Percival replied, "Yeah we have to be out of here before eight. We'll need to use the floo."

The three teens poured through the doorway and led by their growling stomachs headed straight for the kitchen.

Unusually the kitchen was shrouded in silent darkness, there was no fire in the grate and the sconces weren't lit. Mrs Weasley was nowhere to be seen. Harry looked at the floor guiltily, correctly assuming that this was a consequence of the argument that had taken place that morning. Percival reached out a hand and rubbed Harry's neck, murmuring that it wasn't his fault.

Harry frowned determinedly, he'd caused this he could at least deal with it! "Dobby, Kreacher!" he called, his voice only catching a litte.

Sirius entered and stopped as he heard Harry's voice. The House Elves popped into existence before the boy.

"Master Harry called Dobby?"

"Halfblood," the rest of what Kreacher was going to say devolved into inaudible mutterings at a sharp look from Sirius.

"Ok, Kreacher first. What food is there in the house to prepare for dinner? There needs to be enough to feed at least a dozen."

Kreacher muttered a little while longer before answering, "There be fish, and lettuce, tomatoes…."

"Fish and salad then, would you mind placing the ingredients out on the bench for me? Later I would like it if you'd show me where to find everything, please. Dobby would you mind helping me make dinner?" Dobby nodded happily. Harry paused in thought, "What do you eat Dobby?"

"House Elves eats leftovers of Master's foods or special berries growing in magic places."

"Do you have enough?" Dobby nodded. "Ok, just let me know if you don't, so that we can fix that ok?" As expected Dobby burst into tears, Harry patted him gently on the head and directed him into the kitchen.

"He really is incredible, isn't he," Sirius said proudly watching the boy prepare their dinner. Ron and Percival hummed their agreement.

"I'll need help with the charms to keep the food fresh if you know them Sirius. Bill said he'd be late today and who knows when Mrs Weasley will feel like eating," Harry said as he plated up the last servings, ensuring that he had two small plates set aside for the Elves.

Sirius approached the bench, "Now it was your Mother that taught me these charms Harry, so I want you to pay close attention. You can look them up when you get to school and practice them there."

He waved his wand over each plate, carefully designating which areas were to be kept cool and which warm, Harry watched him avidly. Just as Sirius was finishing, the floo flared green and Mr Weasley strode out. Grabbing two plates, Harry began to carry them to the table.

"Dobby could you set out the cutlery please? Ron could you let the others know that dinner is ready? Sirius, Percival would you find the cups and water jugs please? Mr Weasley, I think Mrs Weasley would appreciate it if you visited her first." Mr Weasley nodded and hurried up the stairs in search of his wife.

A thundering down the stairs heralded the arrival of Ron with the twins, Ginny and Hermione all following him. Ron entered the room and without any fuss took a seat at the table while the other teens, stopped on the bottom stair in confusion.

"Where's Mum?" Ginny asked, looking around curiously.

"Not sure," Sirius stated, elegantly raising one shoulder. "However, it was getting on to tea time and it's only fair that she should have a rest, so Harry volunteered to cook."

The twins crossed their arms and looked at Harry clearly doubting the statement, "You made this Harrykins?"

Harry, hummed.

"Really Harry!"" Hermione admonished, "It's not even a funny joke." She scowled at Sirius as she pulled a chair out from the table not bothering to lift it fully and making the legs screech against the floorboards.

"Well believe us or not, it's up to you," Sirius frowned at them. "Regardless this is dinner and it's all that will be provided so you might as well sit down and eat it."

From his place between Percival and Ron, Harry sat looking at his plate, a sour feeling growing in his stomach, "I think I've lost my appetite." He reached a hand out to push his plate away, but Percival rested his hand on Harry's forearm and Ron gripped his shoulder on the other side.

"Just eat a little, who cares what they think? We all saw you make it." Ron stated quietly.

Harry pulled back his plate and encouraged by Ron and Percival began to eat, ignoring the various comments made by Ginny and Hermione. Not long after that, Bill appeared and sat down without ceremony to begin his meal.

"This isn't Mum's food," he said after a few mouthfuls. Inspecting the piece fish, he had speared with his fork. "And it hasn't been made by House Elf magic, so who do I have to thank for dinner?" He glanced expectantly towards the girls.

Ginny raised her hands in the air, "Don't look at me, you know I'm useless with house hold charms."

The twins glanced consideringly at Harry, "Harrykins said earlier…."

"That he cooked….."

"But we want to know…."

"If he can cook, then why…"

Harry slammed his cutlery down onto the table and pushed back his chair with a sharp scrapping sound. Not making eye contact with anyone he left the room.

"Seriously, you know how they treated him. You've seen how thin he is at the start of each year. Is it any stretch of the imagination to assume that they would make him cook and then deny him food?" Ron said sharply.

The twins winced.

"Really Ron, you shouldn't be encouraging his behaviour. You're enabling him!" Hermione crossed her arms and rocked back in her chair. "Of course, dinner was made by your Mum. Bill can't possibly tell who made it! That's ridiculous. She obviously knew she would be busy and made it earlier, preserving it under some charms until it was time."

Bill looked at her with a raised eyebrow but didn't say anything. Clearly there was something going on here that he wasn't aware of, he would have to ask one of his brothers later.

Ron scowled stubbornly, "Hermione you didn't grow up with Bill so you don't know what he can and can't do. And you weren't in the kitchen when dinner was made, so again you didn't see what happened. Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean that it didn't happen."

Hermione huffed and got up leaving her empty plate and dirty cutlery behind on the table as she retreated to her room. Ginny followed her.

Turning to Ron, Bill asked, "So what's going on?"

Ron groaned and dropped his head to the table with a thunk, "To make a long story short, Mum and Harry had a fight today, the twins and I sided with Harry. So Mum's spent the entire day in her room. At least with think she is as we haven't seen her. Dad went in to talk to her."

"Was she honestly in the wrong?"

"She got mad at him for speaking to his 'Mother' poorly." Bill could hear the inverted commas. He loved his Mum a great deal, but she did try to mother anyone that entered the house whether they wanted it or not.

Bill winced, "I bet that went over well."

"About as well as can be expected, especially when she followed it up by telling him not to lie about how he is treated at the Dursley's."

Bill was a bit confused by that, as the subject hadn't come up in any of the letters his brothers had sent him over the years, so Ron had to explain a little of what he had seen and observed about Harry's home life.

"I notice that third member of your trio doesn't seem to be siding with Harry?"

Ron groaned, straightening up enough to put his elbow on the table and rest his chin in the palm of his hand, "That's another thing. Harry and Hermione had a fight too." A raised eyebrow encouraged him to continue. "Normally Harry doesn't get much if any of his homework done in the summer and he has to do it on the train. This year was an exception. Only Hermione didn't believe him, so she told him to stop lying. And then when he wouldn't back down she insisted that she should go over what he'd done to fix it for him, because he obviously hadn't done it right. He admitted that he'd been a bit rude, but he's apologised for the way he spoke to her. Only now he's started noticing other things that she does. Like wanting to know where he is all the time, what he's eaten, everything. She'll just wander into our room at any time, even the bathroom. It's a bit much."

Bill reached out and ruffled his youngest brother's hair. "Geroff Bill!"

"Seriously though Ron. How are you doing?"

The younger boy shrugged, "It's hard, I like Hermione. I really do. The things she's been saying, I'd never thought about it before, and well Harry's right. She wouldn't say those things if she thought he was smart. She really shouldn't be telling him what he can and can't do, she's a friend not his mother. It's hard 'cause I'm stuck in the middle, and she talks to me the same way but what can I do?"

The taller boy reached out and gave his brother a hug, "Be calm, be patient, be the voice of reason," he advised.

"Bill, this is me you're talking to, be serious!"

"You'll figure it out Ron."

A footstep sounded and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen, "Right well, I know it's a bit late, but I'll just get something started." She bustled over to the stove.

"It's all right, love," Arthur said in a calm voice as he entered the room behind her. "Dinner's already been done, you can take the night off."

"But I….." she looked around at the two places still set at the table. "But who….?"

"Harry cooked," Bill said. "It's all under preservation charms. Come on Mum, you deserve a night off," he encouraged her over to the table.

Percival had followed Harry out of the kitchen, unsure what the other boy was feeling. After a brief search he found his friend had retreated to the Master bedroom and was grooming the hippogriff. Harry looked up as the door opened.

"The first thing I want to know," Percival began as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "Is why is there a hippogriff in the main bedroom?"

A surprised smile emerged on Harry's face, it gave way to a chuckle and then a somewhat hysterical laugh. Eventually he calmed, "In my third year there was an incident in class, the result of someone ignoring the teacher's instructions that meant that Buckbeak was slated for destruction and as my Godfather escaped from Azkaban. Sirius was re-captured at Hogwarts, when the real culprit escaped. They were arranging for him to receive the dementors kiss, when the Headmaster told Hermione that we needed more time. She revealed that she'd been given a time turner in order to attend all the available classes that year. Yeah it's kind of shocking that isn't?" Harry correctly interpreted the expression on Percival's face. "Anyhow we used it to go back three hours to rescue both Buckbeak and Sirius and sent them on their way to freedom together. I guess he didn't know what else to do with him and given he was feeling slightly irreverent towards his parents when he moved in," Harry shrugged. "I guess we should look for somewhere more suitable for Buckbeak to stay now."

A hand reached out and pressed Harry's shoulder down, "I really need to get you out of that habit. You'll be the Head of a prestigious House, you should be elegant….."

Whatever else Percival was going to say was lost amongst Harry's laughter, "Me elegant!"

A pleased '_Well done'_ was fed directly into Percival's mind. "We'll have to work on it." He paused just for a moment, as Harry resumed patting the beast. "You should know it's ok to be angry. Or sad. Even though she's your friend it's ok, not to like her very much right now, and you can even change your mind about it again later, if you'd like." He received a nod in response. "Come on, say goodnight to Buckbeak, we've got a new room to check out."

Hedwig was very pleased with the new room. It had a specially charmed window that allowed her to pass through it without the need to bother her wizard, not that he had ever minded being woken to let her in, but she knew he needed his sleep. She appreciated the new bed as well; the headrest was just the right size for her to grip and the dark green canopy and curtains created a nice dark nest. It was ideal for sleeping any time of the day. Yes, this room was much more acceptable for her wizard, certainly better than the cold bare nest where she was locked up in her cage. She was also glad that he had a new nest mate, his old ones were far too loud. She couldn't sleep during the day because the bushy-haired female chirped non-stop and during the hours of darkness, well if the noises that the red-haired one emitted were anything to go by, there was something very wrong with him! The new one gave her treats. Yes, this quiet nest mate, was much more acceptable. With that last thought Hedwig tucked her head under her wing.

The morning light sluggishly flickered across the face of the boy on the camp stretcher disturbing his sleep. Beside him on the canopied bed, a smaller dark-haired boy was caught in the throes of yet another nightmare.

"Oh Harry," Percival sighed as he rolled onto his side and pushed himself off the mattress. It was almost second nature now for him to lift Harry's hand and place it over the Tattoo. If one of his Aurors had presented like this he would have had them to the mediwitch before they could say Quodpot! It was a miracle the boy could even function. He added it to the list of things to discuss with the healer.

"Perce?" Harry said in a sleep slurred voice, that drew a smile onto Percival's face.

"You know Seraphina is the only who has ever given me a nickname before."

"Nearly 40 years and no nickname, 'ats terble," Harry teased sleepily.

"Come on up you get," Percival encouraged. "You get to meet 'Phina today and she has all sorts of things planned so we can't be late."

Despite Harry trying to bury himself in the pillow again, they managed to get changed, and be down to the kitchen before the rest of the house was awake.

"I wonder if Mrs Weasley will be cooking again today?" Harry mused. He looked over at Percival and suggested shyly, "I could get breakfast started if you like?"

Percival smiled softly, "I actually know how to cook. I didn't ever have a House Elf."

"Should we make enough for everyone? Or do you think Mrs Weasley would be upset?"

"I….." Percival didn't bother continuing to reply as Harry had bent over and was rummaging through the cupboards. When Harry reappeared he said, "let's just make something for us." The messy head nodded, without looking up from where the thin hands were busy cracking eggs into a pan. The hob lit automatically as soon as the pan was placed on the stove top.

"That's awful convenient," Harry commented.

Percival grinned fully this time, "That's magic." A poked tongue was his only reply.

By the time the boys were seated at the table consuming their eggs on toast, they could hear stirrings higher up in the house. They had nearly finished eating before the first person made their way into the kitchen. Unsurprisingly it was Mrs Weasley. She starred at them for a moment but continued on to the kitchen cupboard and began taking out pots and pans. Harry slipped passed her to put the plates into the sink, which he began to fill with hot water.

"Kreacher, could you point out where the dishwashing liquid and a sponge is please?" Harry asked the air.

With a Pop a small glass bottle appeared on the bench with a wash cloth beside it. Harry picked it up and read the label, then added three drops of the potion into the water and stirred vigorously for ten seconds as per the instructions.

"Thank you Kreacher," Harry said as he began cleaning the dishes. He left them on the dish rack to dry.

The silence in the kitchen was an uncomfortable prickling on his skin and Harry decided it would be best to address the issue with Mrs Weasley before anyone else was present.

"Mrs Weasley," she froze at the sound of his voice. "I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry for the way that I spoke to you yesterday. I really have appreciated the things you have done for me, taking me into your home and sending me gifts, but no-one will ever replace my Mother."

"Oh Harry. I'm sorry love. I didn't mean it like that….I….," she burst into tears and threw her arms around his neck.

Harry didn't know what to do, this was just as uncomfortable as the silence. He looked over her shoulder at Percival with doe-like eyes. Percival was grinning at him wickedly, but eventually mimed giving her a hug. Harry wrapped his arms around her awkwardly.

"Just so you know Mrs Weasley, I may be able to throw a meal together, but it's nothing to compare to your cooking, Bill knew right away you hadn't made dinner."

The compliment didn't have the desired effect as she began sobbing again. When, to Harry's relief, the tears subsided she said, "None of my children have been interested in learning how to cook," as she dried her eyes on the corner of her apron.

Harry couldn't help but interrupt, "Not even Ron?!"

She gave a tear stained smile, "As if that boy would take on extra work. If you would like, I could teach you?"

He took it as the olive branch it was intended to be, "I think that would be nice Mrs Weasley. It isn't fair that you have to do all the work cooking for everyone."

"I don't mind the work, but with so many mouths to feed, I can admit it would be nice to have a hand." She gave him a tight squeeze, pulled a handkerchief out from the front of her dress and wiped her face. "Now I'd better see to breakfast for the rest of them." With that she returned to bustling around the kitchen.

As the room filled Harry wondered what Ron had planned as a distraction to enable them to escape the house un-noticed. In the end whatever it was, it wasn't needed as there was a loud crack by the front door and a wizard ran into the kitchen.

"Molly there was an attack last night," Shacklebolt said. "Hestia Jones was injured. Did you clean up a room to act as an infirmary yet?"

Throwing the tea towel over her shoulder Molly nodded and bustled Kingsley out of the room. When Ron glanced up he noted that Harry and Percival had already disappeared, and tucked the dung bombs he had stolen from the twin's trunk back into his pocket.

Percival stepped out of the floo, after three other stops, into the parlour of Seraphina's apartment. Despite being one hundred and eight years old Seraphina Picquery was still as elegant as she had been on the last day that Percival had seen her. He couldn't stop staring at his old friend, as she sat a cup on the side table and stood up to greet him.

"Percival," her voice still held the rich tones it did in her youth but had mellowed a bit with her age. "I am sorry." She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. "I knew something wasn't right but, you were pulling so many hours looking into, what we later discovered was an obscurial that I put it down to tiredness and stress, in fact the man avoided me mostly."

"Obscurial?" Percival choked out. Now the thought had been put in his mind he wondered how close Harry had come to becoming an obscurial. He pushed the thought to the side and returned his attention to his friend.

"Yes, the attacks around the city," she drew back to look him in the eyes.

He shook his head, "the last thing I remember from the streets was the day the Christoferson case went wrong."

Her face dropped in horror, "that long? Percy that was months!"

"I know," he responded dryly as he stepped away from her to turn and look for Harry, who was now standing in front of the fireplace covered from head to toe in soot and blinking owlishly.

With a laugh, Seraphina produced her wand and waved it to clean away the dirt, "Hmm," she considered the shorter of the two boys. "We'll have to practice that. You should be able to manage a wandless cleaning spell, they work easier on oneself. Now how about some breakfast?"

Harry's gaze dropped immediately to the floor. Seeing this Seraphina glanced at her old friend, who stepped into Harry's personal space.

An index finger was inserted under the boy's chin and his face was raised, "Harry," Percival said gently. "It's ok, 'Phina will understand, besides we'll be here a while, there'll be no waste, she won't be angry." Green eyes flickered to their host, who nodded her agreement, even though she was unsure why the boy was acting ashamed. Percival turned back to her, "I'm sorry to admit I forgot about breakfast and we ate before we left, though it was early, so I expect we'll be hungry again by the time the Healer is done. I recall fifteen was a rather hungry age."

The ex-president of MACUSA, laughed, "You look exactly as you did at school you know, it's rather startling."

With a nod Percival said, "I could say the same, except for the grey hairs."

"At least come and join me for tea," Seraphina indicated the tray that she had placed her cup on earlier.

A chime sounded interrupting their chatter, with a quick tempus Seraphina checked the time, "Ah that would be the healer." They all stood, and Harry took an instinctive step back behind Percival.

The man who entered the room, wore a long black fitted frock coat with two rows of silver buttons down the front, his hair and beard were dark with a smattering of grey and trimmed close. All in all, he exuded a confidence that made Harry relax, just a little bit, in his presence.

"Is this my patient?" he stopped in front of Percival and looked him up and down. "No? You mentioned glasses."

With a sideways step Harry made himself visible, "It would be me you're here to see Sir. I am sorry for the inconvenience," he said softly as he found himself being scrutinised.

"Yes well," there was a barely perceivable eye flick towards Harry's scar, "I can now see why the extra precautions have been taken," and without further preamble the man pointed his wand at the ceiling. "I, Addison Baldric Hedgerow swear, that no information with regards to my patient Harry James Potter, will be passed by me through word, deed or thought to any other human, being or creature. All information given to me by Harry James Potter will be included in this sacred vow, so I swear, so mote it be."

The magic of the vow began to wrap around the pair.

"I, Harry James Potter, swear that all information that I give to Addison Baldric Hedgerow, will be the truth as I know it, neither will I conceal any information that is pertinent to my treatment from him. This shall last until he deems me healed. So, I swear so mote it be." There was an audible click as the vow locked into place.

"Right then," Addison appeared a bit startled by Harry returning his vow. "I will get you to lie on the couch, on your back if you would." Addison conjured himself a low stool as Harry lay down.

It had taken more than an hour for the healer to complete his examination, and another for him to create a holistic treatment plan. It started with him giving Harry several critical vaccinations that he should have had his first year at Hogwarts. A lot of the treatment would be managed with potions, so he had written out a long list for Seraphina, who as the only adult present had to arrange delivery. It appeared however that Harry's scar was more than a simple curse scar. It was revealed to be a very small piece of someone else's soul! Into the shocked silence that followed the diagnosis Harry was made to recount the events of the night his parents had died. Addison had also taken a copy of the memory to examine, as Harry sat clutching desperately at Percival's hand. The healer was fairly sure that he had heard of a ritual that could be used to remove it, but he wanted to be absolutely certain before suggesting anything.

The discovery also changed the plans Percival had for teaching Harry occlumency. Shields for defending against external attack were one thing (and still very much required as evidenced by Dumbledore's actions) but half Harry's problems could be originating from that soul piece, especially if it maintained any connection to the active component of the soul. Harry swallowed and stuttered his way through admitting that he was sure some of the nightmares he suffered were actually visions, and how he had weird emotional outbursts that seemed not to come from anything he was feeling. Healer Addison listened quietly taking in every word that Harry said. In the end he admitted that the situation was unusual, and he would need to research it further before they could fully comprehend all the affects it was having on Harry, (though he thought that distractibility, visual impairment and diminished comprehension might be included) and what the best course of action might be. Just to rule out anything else he took a sample of blood to check for potions, with an additional vow covering its use and destruction.

As he was packing up, Percival pulled the Healer aside, so he could discuss potential treatment of Sirius Black. With discerning eyes, Addison inspected Percival's face. "So, this man survived a dozen years in Azkaban, and appears sane?"

"Not so much fully sane, but mostly. He seems quick to anger and confuses Harry with his father at times. Though I don't know what he was like beforehand. Physically he hasn't recovered much as he has been on the run. He and Harry had a disagreement which has caused him to focus on his actions and he says he is working on improving his Occlumency, I believe both are helping."

"And you feel this criminal is safe to have around Britain's Saviour."

Percival gave him a flat look, "It is as if the whole world has forgotten the vow that a man must make to become a Godfather."

Addison stilled, "You are correct, I had forgotten. That raises the question of whether he took the vow, performed the ritual or is Godfather in name only."

"There is also the fact that before the attack that night, the man had been responsible for apprehending nearly a dozen Death Eaters, even with Dumbledore's no harm policy. There are many things about the situation that are suspicious," Seraphina said as she joined them. "Including why Dumbledore vouched for Severus Snape and not for Sirius Black who was known to be a member of his 'Order' and from all appearances had been James' brother in all but blood since their first year in school."

"Are you implying that the wizard who captured Grindelwald, is…."

The elegant woman shook her head, "No, I have had dealings with Dumbledore before through the ICW and he is very much a supporter of light magics. He is very good at looking at the whole picture, and I rather think that there was a reason…."

"A reason for leaving me in that house?" a deathly quiet voice spoke from behind them. By Harry's hurt expression, Percival knew he needed to intercede, or Seraphina would have lost the small amount of trust Harry had given her.

"She is not saying that you deserved to be there," he said softly.

"Absolutely not!" Seraphina was indignant. "Harry there is no excuse for the way that you were treated. I'm saying that Dumbledore made his decisions only looking at the possible effects on the British wizarding world and not considering what the possible consequences for you were."

"Yeah after all what does it matter if one boy is raised in a cupboard if the rest of the world is okay!" he muttered bitterly.

She nodded sadly, "And he is very wrong about that. I have always found that it makes him more than a little short-sighted, as the bigger picture is made up of all the little pieces. I guess what I am saying is that he didn't make the decision deliberately to hurt you, however I still do not believe that he was right. There are simple spells that can be used to monitor a child's health. It should have been easy for him to keep an eye on you and make sure you were well and being looked after. I have no idea what his reasons for not checking on you were, but it doesn't matter they were not good enough!" She held out an arm and invited Harry into a half hug. Percival was happy to see that after a moment Harry stepped to her side and accepted it.

"Regardless, understanding why something happened doesn't negate the consequences, Picquery so be sure to get onto the apothecary. If you can arrange for him to be here next week when I come back with Harry's other results, I'll see the Godfather too," Addison said before stepping into the floor and whirling away.

"Now it's half past ten. I called Gringotts and let them know we were delayed so they have moved our appointment back until eleven. That gives you boys enough time to eat the pastries I bought for breakfast and apply glamours before we face Diagon Alley." She shook her head while looking at Harry, "We had hoped to rid you of those glasses, but…." they became gold rimmed and rectangular.

Harry took them off to peer at them, "Wow they're so light, and," he slid them into place, "I can see more, like at the sides!"

She smiled at him, "I'll have to transfigure them back before you go home, however I'm sure one of the adults in the house could change them for you again. Something like this would be a better option for the trial. If you work hard enough you can probably transfigure them yourself."

She continued to buzz around them as they devoured the treats set out on the table, only taking a minute to eat a croissant herself, and then finally she was done.

"There is one last thing Harry," she said.

"My scar?" The small teen guessed with a barely concealed grimace.

She nodded then instructed, "face me and sit still." Very carefully she covered the scar and blended the foundation in at the edges, then she took out her wand. Harry went cross-eyed trying to follow the movements as she set and waterproofed the coverup. "If you boys have finished eating, we are ready to go!" she nodded again, satisfied with her handy work.

The walk through Diagon Alley, had to be one of the most enjoyable that Harry had ever experienced. No-one gawked at him. They were too busy looking at Seraphina, in all her elegant glory. Harry made sure to walk several steps behind her so that it seemed he was merely walking in the same direction and wasn't with her. The charade came to an end at the top of the steps into Gringotts as Seraphina waited for the teens to join her and then herded them towards a side door, that Harry had not noticed on his previous trips to the bank.

"We are expected at eleven, most Senior Guard," she addressed the Goblin by the door, with a nod of respect.

He inclined his head and knocked once upon the door with the butt of his spear. A moment later the door opened, and a Goblin dressed in a grey pin-striped suit stepped through.

"Madame Picquery and guests," he greeted, "Follow me."

They followed him back through the door into the dim internal tunnels of Gringotts. The atmosphere was so sombre that Harry was afraid to make a noise. The Goblin led them to an oak door set into the passage way. He rapped on it once, before stepping backwards out of their way.

"Enter only when called," he instructed.

"Many thanks Honourable Guide," Seraphina acknowledged. He inclined his head again and then ambled off disappearing into the gloom.

The tunnel floor was smooth, and the ceiling was low, certainly not as low as Harry's cupboard. Harry's mind stuttered and caught on the memory. The darkness wasn't helping, nor the musty smell of earth that saturated the still air. With a sharp inhale Harry tried to focus on taking slow breaths but they seemed to be getting away from them. He couldn't catch them to slow them down, like a bolting horse. The walls pressed in, he thought he could hear footsteps on wooden floorboards.

A hand on the small of his back made him jump, though fortunately he didn't cry out. Vernon wouldn't tolerate that! He sucked air into his lungs again, but couldn't halt his rapidly accelerating heart rate, nor the blackness at the edges of his vision. Someone took his hand, he flinched and tried to pull away, with a whine. Vernon wouldn't like it if he moved, but he didn't want to feel the cane striking his hand again! He would be punished more, at least an extra five hits, for not holding still. He whined again as his hand was grasped firmly but was lifted and not turned palm up as he had been dreading. What was Vernon doing?! The hand was still moving on his back. Vernon had never done that before! Was some new punishment about to be inflicted upon him? The thought terrified him. He was gasping now, there was only a small dot of vision left!

And then there was…..warmth…. spreading down his arm from his hand towards his elbow. His throat which had seized closed, relaxed. The hand on his back moved slowly in circles. The blackness receded and finally he could hear something other than his own heartbeat. His body became boneless and the hand moved from his back to support him at his waist so he wouldn't fall.

"You're safe, we're with the Goblins. It's dark because we're in the tunnels. You are safe. I'm here with you. I'm here," a voice whispered into his ear. Warm air moved against the side of his face at the words and made his skin tingle.

Harry choked out a half sob, and took a ragged breath in, "safe, you're here?"

Percival began the rubbing soothing circles on the back of the hand that was pressed to his Mark, "I'm here, Seraphina's here, the Goblins are here, we won't let anything happen to you," he reassured.

The door beside them opened spilling light into the passageway and illuminating Harry's pale face. Seraphina stepped in front of the boys and spoke to one of the Goblins in the room.

"Master Accountant, I thank you for your forbearance for our delayed arrival and my charges appearing under glamour. I thought it prudent for them to avoid detection in Diagon Alley. If I may draw my wand, I will remove the disguises now?" Seraphina asked as she ushered the boys through the doorway and into chairs that were placed in front of the desk.

The Goblin seated behind the desk, waved his approval indifferently, while the other two, standing on either side of the desk, scowled on. Seraphina quickly removed the effects of the spells, glamours and re-transfigured Harry's glasses. She had even thought to bring a damp cloth to remove the makeup from his scar.

"Well they certainly look the part," growled the goblin to the left.

The one to the right had bared his teeth however, "As we have just seen, looks are easily created. Their magic needs to be tested."

"Right you are Sharptooth, Grippound if you could bring forth the crystals."

"That's all well and good Striknott, however due to the unfortunate state of the world at the time, the Potter Heir does not have a magic sample on file," he glared at Harry as if this was his fault.

"We'll start out with Mr Graves then and sort Mr Potter out after. I rather suspect Mr Graves' result will be rather interesting."

A moment later Grippound returned holding an ice blue box, inside nestled on a dark blue velvet cloth rested a glowing orb. He opened the lid in front of Percival, "Well go on lad, take it out, let's see if you are who she said you were."

Percival reached out cautiously and removed the orb from its cushion, the moment his fingers wrapped around it there was the sound of a clear bell being struck.

"Hmmm," Grippound seemed pleased as he took back the crystal examining it closely.

"Well?" demanded Striknott impatiently.

"As you thought, Sir. He's the genuine article, though how he was de-aged and travelled seventy years through time is a bit of a mystery. There is a touch of Death and Magic in his new reading too," he added squinting into the orb.

"Care to explain Mr Graves?"

"Not without oaths," Percival stated flatly.

While Sharptooth, snarled the other two Goblins, laughed. "It's definitely him," Grippound said.

"An oath we shall make then," agreed Striknott.

"I'm not making an oath to this lying wand waver!" Sharptooth growled.

"Hmmm," Striknott steepled his fingers and examined the younger goblin. "As is your choice, you will leave now, and I'll call you back when the claims are being made for young Mr Potter."

Sharptooth, looked like he would protest, but a guttural growl from the eldest of the Goblins, sent him scurrying out of the room.

"To the oath, I Striknott, Master Accountant of the Gringotts Goblins swear, that I will not reveal the knowledge granted to me by Percival Ezra Graves. From now until the end of this meeting. In magics name, so mote it be."

"So mote it be," echoed Grippound. A cord of green wrapped around them both.

"Grippound you may remember in mid-1926, I came to see you to ensure that the latest copy of my will was on file. Not long after that I was part of an undercover operation, we didn't know at the time, but it was all a set up. As a result, I was captured by Gellert Grindelwald."

The Goblins nodded this was information they already knew.

"Some months after I was imprisoned, he stopped coming to feed me. I slowly starved. When I was on my death bed I was visited by the gods- Death and Magic, they prevailed upon me to accept a second life. It seems Magic is dying, and it won't be long before she is gone taking all magical life with her, if we fail to act. I was also charged with providing support for Mr Potter in the upcoming conflict."

"Good, I see you have already started using oaths. This will this remind people of her presence and draw on the magic in the ley lines refreshing those who use it."

"I have also started discussing with Harry the old rituals that used to be followed and which have fallen out of practice. However, his health needs to be more stable before we start practicing them, though he has performed one small one in the last few days with no ill effects."

"We have been concerned about Mr Potter. Many letters have been sent to his Guardians attempting to arrange an appointment, but we have yet to receive a response. Can you explain this Mr Potter?"

Harry, stuttered underneath that strong gaze. Percival took pity on him and answered in his stead.

"I believe that may be Dumbledore's doing."

"Explain!"

"Mr Dumbledore, placed Harry with his Muggle relatives. When he did so he knew that they did not like Magic at all. I think he may have re-directed Harry's mail to another location, or maybe placed a banishing ward on it, so they wouldn't be inundated."

"But I get letters from my friends!" Harry protested. "Who else would write to me."

"Harry, you're a celebrity in this world. I haven't been the president of MACUSA for nearly fifty years and I still received over 200 letters a week from the public, and that triples on my birthday and other special occasions. I would be very surprised if there isn't a mountain of letters and presents somewhere."

Harry was stunned.

"We had best get Sharptooth back in here, to confirm your identity Mr Potter," Striknott, pressed a small button on the side of his desk. Nearly instantaneously the door burst open and Sharptooth re-entered the room.

"Shall we test this fraud then?" he challenged.

"Sharptooth, your behaviour is unseemly. Be warned if it continues you will relegated to the carts!" Striknott growled.

"There is no orb, for Mr Potter, we will have to test his blood," Sharptooth said with marginally less aggression.

"That is a simple matter," Stricknott, opened a drawer in his desk and pulled forth a plain white bowl and a small bottle of potion. "The heritage parchment, please Grippound."

From seemingly out of nowhere Grippound produced a single sheet of parchment and placed it beside the bowl.

"As is the way of wizards I assume you wish to use your own blade?"

Seraphina nodded and withdrew a dagger from inside a small pouch attached to her wand holster. "When we are done may I drew my wand to clean off the remaining blood?" she queried.

"Of course," Striknott said. "Now seven drops of blood into the bowl lad, use the index finger of your left hand. The line of magic for that finger comes straight from your heart so it will give us the best reading."

Harry took the offered blade and put a small nick in his finger as requested. He became so absorbed in watching the swirling pattern the blood made in the potion that he didn't notice Percival grab his hand and heal it or Seraphina clean off the dagger. Striknott turned the bowl three times to the left, and then deeming the contents ready, stuck a quill into the bowl, when all the liquid was taken up in the nib, he passed the bowl to Seraphina for cleansing, much to Sharptooth's disgust. The Quill was then placed at the top edge of the parchment and it began to write.

**Name:** _Harry James Potter_

**Date of Birth**_: 31st of July 1980_

**Born to **

**Father:** _James Fleamont Potter_

**Mother:** _Lily June Potter nee Evans_

**Inheritance**

_Potter - Lord - Paternal_

_Black - Heir - Godfather_

_Peverell - Heir Secondus - Paternal_

**Oaths**

_Loyalty - Freely Given- Percival Ezra Grave_

_Protection - Godfather Ritual - Sirius Orion Black_

_Protection - Coerced - Severus Tobias Snape_

**Life Debts**

_Severus Snape- Inherited Paternal_

_Peter Pettigrew_

**Quests**

_Vanquish the Dark Lord Tom Riddle_

_Collect the Deathly Hallows_

**Bonds**

_Familiar- Owl- Hedwig_

**Investments**

_Weasley Wizards Wheezes 1000 G _

Harry was intensely curious as to how the Goblins knew he had given his Triwizard tournament winnings to Fred and George, but the they looked so fierce he didn't dare ask. Perhaps the twins had done something, he would have to ask them later.

"Well that's that then," Striknott said. "Gentlemen produce your ledgers." Grippound passed a thick book, bound in black leather to Percival.

"He is underage Striknott, only his Guardian has the right to see the Potter Ledgers," Sharptooth protested indignantly, as the senior Goblin gestured for the book to passed to Harry.

"His Guardians are muggles Sharptooth. As the only Heir of not one but two Houses he has the right to see the ledger for his own House. Lord Black will have to come in and see about his own finances of course." The two Goblins were now engaged in a weird staring contest.

"Ah hum," Grippound drew the attention of the humans away from the building disagreement to himself. "As you can see Mr Graves, we here at Gringotts had no indication that you were actually deceased even though the ministry did declare you so." He opened the heavy Tome and gestured to an entry.

"Sorry about that Percy," Seraphina muttered. He just smiled at her in understanding.

"Because of this," Grippound continued. "We did not enact the will you had filed with us, instead we kept going with the last financial recommendations we had discussed. Because of this your account has not been idle and has accumulated a reasonable sum in the time you have been….in transit."

What followed was a brief financial overview, during which Harry and Seraphina conversed quietly. Percival was quite happy with the work the Goblins had done and so authorised them to continue, with only a few minor changes in adjustment for the new times.

Bang!

The groups attention was returned abruptly to the desk, where an enormous, brown book now sat. Sharptooth was unconscious, completely wrapped in ropes and leaning stiffly against the wall like a length of timber. Striknott, was still seated calmly at his desk.

"My apologies, I lost my temper for a minute there. Mr Potter….."

"Please Sir, could you call me Harry?" the boy asked somewhat hesitantly.

The Goblin showed all his teeth in a parody of a smile, "Certainly young man. Now Harry, I must regretfully inform you that your account manager has been stood down for the foreseeable future. I will act in his stead for the time being. If that is acceptable to you?"

What else could Harry do? After a quick glance at Percival and Seraphina he nodded.

"Good now first things first, as per your parents will, there has been a stipend meant for you guardians coming out of the accounts going to a Mrs Petunia Dursley nee Evans for the last 14 odd years. I just need to confirm that this is who you have been living with?" Harry nodded again, suppressing the anger that his relatives had been receiving money for his care when they had told him an infinite number of times how much of a burden he was. "Good. Please note that the will merely stipulates that it is to go to whomever you have been living with as that criteria has met there is nothing we at the _bank_ can do to recover the funds," his eyes flicked to Seraphina for a moment, whatever the message was, Harry hadn't understood it. "Though should your circumstances change then the recipient of the stipend will change as well."

Harry took a small measure of comfort in that, and maybe he should talk to Aunt Petunia about the money, to see what had happened to it.

A long-crooked finger ran down the numbers at the side of the page, suddenly it paused and tapped in place a number of times. "Mr Potter…..Harry, do you know an organisation called the Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry nodded again.

"Are you a member of this organisation."

Harry shook his head.

"Have you at any time agreed to provide funding for this organisation?'

"No!" Harry blurted out. "I only learned about it a few days ago, and they don't take members who are underage!"

"Hmmm, someone has arranged a fortnightly withdrawal of two hundred galleons. It started in November 1981."

"I was one!"

"Yes I suppose you were. It definitely wasn't authorised by you then. So that will be being cancelled! Rest assured Harry, if a Gringotts Goblin," he passed to glanced at the bound figure. "Has been in anyway responsible for fraudulent activity on your account, there will be reparations paid to you and the consequences for the ones involved will be severe."

He left the impression that not only would the consequences be severe but also terminal.

"Now articles and antiquities. It appears that the Potter Heirloom Cloak is currently in the possession of one Albus Dumbledore."

"No, it's not," Harry interjected. "He returned it to me at Christmas my first year at Hogwarts."

"Sorry Harry but it appears in the ledger. This is an ancient magical device and has never been deceived before. Could you retrieve the cloak you have and bring it in for authentication?"

"Um, now?"

"Yes now. There is a note here under business transactions that says you have engaged a House Elf." the accountant prompted.

"Oh!" Harry blushed. "Dobby!"

"Master Harry calls Dobby."

"Yes, sorry to interrupt whatever it was you were doing Dobby, but would you mind, grabbing my invisibility cloak from out of my trunk and bringing it here please. Make sure no-one at the house sees you though. I don't fancy being on the receiving end of another lecture from Hermione!"

Dobby grinned and disappeared with a pop. Two minutes and another pop later and the House Elf returned.

"Here tis." He proudly passed over the silky material.

This time Striknott produced a crystal rod from his drawer and passed it over the cloak, watching the iridescent colours change. Solemnly he looked at Harry, "I'm afraid to tell you that this is a fake." He paused for a moment, "Well no I suppose it isn't, it is an invisibility cloak and a reasonable quality one at that, but it certainly isn't the Potter Cloak. You see the Potter Cloak has a magical signature that very nearly matches that of the Potter family themselves, with just a hint of something else," here he gave a significant glance at Percival. "This reads most like hide-behind crossed with demiguise."

Harry was gutted, he was angry, he felt betrayed…there were so many emotions he couldn't name them all. "Why?" he finally managed to rasp out from his clenched throat. "Why would he do this to me!" Percival wrapped the smaller boy in his arms.

"I cannot say," Striknott replied. "Though if any of my staff have been involved I will find out." He again glanced sharply at the Goblin leaning against the wall.

"Dobby can you tell where the real Potter Cloak is?" Harry asked.

"Dobby's not sure Master Harry, but many hidden things in old Bumblebee's office."

"Can you look for it, without being seen, or heard or harmed?"

Dobby nodded and made ready to disappear once more.

"Wait," Percival said. "If you find the cloak you will need to replace it with something. Go and buy the cheapest invisibility cloak you can find, then disguise it to look identical to Harry's. So, you can leave it in its place."

Dobby disappeared.

"Is there anything else?" Harry asked tremulously.

"Yes, though these seem to be less suspicious. Books that have been borrowed and not returned, your House Elf should be able to gather them up. I will just mention that a large number of these are in the hands of one Hermione Granger. I assume that these were your doing as the young lady concerned is in your year and house."

"I've never lent Hermione any books! The only books I own are the books I have purchased for school. She would already have the same ones," Harry protested.

With a frown on his face Striknott, surveyed the list. "These all appear to have come from the Library at Potter Manor. Is that not the property you have been residing in with your family? Or were you in the cottage in Wiltshire? Or…"

"I have a manor?!" Harry gasped. "I live in little Whinging, in Surrey. My relatives are muggles who absolutely despise magic, so it is a perfectly mundane house."

"Right," the Goblin growled. "There has been a serious infraction. Someone has been able to gain entry into the Potter properties! When your parents passed on the properties wards would have all locked down, except for the property that was your residence. Once locked down they can only be opened again by using your blood. Therefore, only someone who has gained access to that could have passed the wards. Do you know anyone who could have achieved this?"

The goblin looked so fierce that Harry gulped, then nodded.

"Who!"

"I don't think I even know them all," the boy admitted in a whisper. "That night, the night my parents died, I had a wound on my head." His hand lifted to cup his scar. "I don't know how I got from the house we were in to my Aunt's, though I do know at the very least that Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid were there. I have been injured and unconscious a number of times at school, including speared with a basilisk fang, so anyone could have taken blood from me or my robes while I was there. Then last summer," Harry swallowed roughly, and looked at the Goblin, through the hair which fell across his face. "Tom Riddle used my blood to create a new body for himself." Harry dropped his face into his hands.

An odd puffing noise, drew Harry's attention away from his inner turmoil and back to the seated Goblin, who was taking deep breaths. "Right, well as much as I am very," he rolled his 'R' "interested in discussing the Basilisk incident. I'll leave that for now. The good news is this that the first item was removed a mere two weeks after your parents died and there have been no new incursions since last June. So, the likelihood is that it was one of the first three. I doubt the half-giant would know either how to use blood to enter the wards or the location of Potter Manor, so it is safe to rule him out as a suspect. The other two though…..We will be able to secure the properties again with the appropriate ritual, which if Grippound, will agree to oversee, we can have sorted this afternoon. It shouldn't be particularly taxing if it is performed here. We can close off the manor again or, we can make it accessible by you and possibly a limited number of others. You would have to be onsite to allow anyone else admittance and it wouldn't matter if they were carrying a bucket of your blood."

"Yes, the second one please. I would like to be able to see it."

With a nod Striknott, wrote some instructions on a piece of parchment and ordered Grippound to start the preparations.

"After your Elf sorts out the Cloak I suggest you have him retrieve the books, especially the Potter Grimoire. Which I will leave Mr Graves to explain to you." He forestalled any further questions. "Or we will never finish here. Lastly, I believe Mr McMillan who is a Lawyer from McMillan and sons wishes to know if you would still like to have them on retainer. They have received advice that you don't feel that their services are required, but as it wasn't directly from you they would like confirmation and they want to present a case for your keeping them on."

Harry glanced at Percival, "My Aunt suggested I talk to a lawyer so I would very much like to keep them on. Can you manage the contract for me?"

"Very astute Mr Potter. I will send a response while the ritual is being performed and will advise him to contact you via us. As you appear to have some sort of mail….ward or similar in place, I will offer you this. Given what has been discovered here today I will waive the usual hire fee."

He pulled a small wooden box from out of the drawer (Harry was beginning to wonder exactly how big the insides of the drawer really were). "This is a post box. To send a letter via Gringotts place the letter inside and depress this button," he demonstrated. "If there is mail for you, the button will glow and when you press it, the drawer will open so you can retrieve the letter. Letters can be received by you at no cost. For you to post out will cost a single knut for each letter. You can receive and send larger parcels for the same price but these will need to be shrunk to fit in the box."

"That seems very fair, thank you." Harry didn't even consider bargaining.

"I will audit your accounts more deeply and contact you with the results as soon as I can. Now if you will proceed through the door Grippound should be waiting and I will deal with… this," he hissed at the figure leaning against the wall.

When the humans had departed, he turned to face the now conscious Sharptooth with a snarl. "That right there," he gestured wildly at the closing door, "is the holder of the biggest account in this bank. And by your actions you have dared to jeopardise not only his life but his inheritance. You will tell me exactly what you have done and what you have gained out of it and I might grant you a swift death," seeing the stubborn scowl on the other Goblins face he changed tack, "Or I might just refer you straight to His Majesty instead. I'm sure he would love to hear how you nearly lead to the end of the most financial family that this bank serves!"

The first step in the ritual was covering another one of the crystal orbs in Harry's blood. This required a surprisingly small amount of blood, merely a few drops which were absorbed in a matter of seconds. An added bonus of the ritual was that Gringotts would now have a sample of Harry's magic. Next he had to meditate, while holding the orb in the palm of his hands, in order to locate his magical core. Which was something he had never done before, but Percival said it was the next step in learning occlumency, and very similar to the meditation they had started to practice each night. It took ten minutes before Harry was able to confidently locate the golden pool of light that hovered in line with his solar plexus. Then he had to pull energy from the pool and push it into the orb, until he was told to stop by Grippound, this step also only took a few seconds.

The glowing orb was then placed in the centre of a circle, the outside delineated by miniature standing stones. Grippound proudly told them that Gringotts was built over a convergence of ley lines which ensured that there was always free flowing magic for the Goblins, or in this case Harry, to use, regardless of the ministries law that restricted them from carrying wands. As Harry had decided that he wanted Sirius, Percival and Seraphina to have access to the properties, they each had to create orbs as well. Dobby, who had returned after successfully retrieving the Cloak, which was returned to the Potter vault, had been diverted from retrieving the books in order to take one to Sirius. The three supplementary orbs were arranged in a triangle around Harry's. From there it was a simple process of a little bit of chanting by the Goblins and Harry asking Magic's blessing to cleanse the Potter properties and strip access from any who had it, giving admittance only to those who had provided blood and magic.

Looking around at the end of the ceremony, everything in the room seemed brighter, and cleaner than it had before. Harry's skin felt supercharged and his hair was standing on end, moving in a non-existent breeze. There was an amused twinkle in Percival's eye as he looked at Harry.

"Oi, just because your hair likes to behave, I swear the Potters must have been cursed!"

Percival laughed out loud at that. Seraphina again asked permission to draw her wand in order to re-transfigure the boys into the disguises they wore entering the bank so that they could continue with their shopping. Anticipating their need, Grippound produced a money bag for each of them as they were leaving.

"I am sure that you and your charges will hear from us soon, Madame Picquery," he said as he bowed them out Gringotts.

Harry couldn't say that he enjoyed the hours they spent in the alley that afternoon, though it was an eye-opening experience. Never before had he been able to choose all his clothes. Never before had he owned clothes that fit! Because he had always had Dudley's oversized and over used hand-me-downs, he had never really cared how he looked, so he had never developed a sense of style for himself. By the end of the afternoon he was fairly sure that he had driven both Seraphina and Percival mad with his indecision. In the end it was easier to let them choose, especially when it came to the robes for the trial.

He had avoid thinking about the hearing in the most part, but faced with those sleek, silk robes in dark navy, it began to weigh him down like a lodestone tied to his neck. Then there were the shoes! He'd never owned so many pairs and wasn't at all convinced they were all needed. Percival insisted that he got shiny black leather dress shoes, comfortable soft house shoes, shoes for exercising in and even a set of dragon leather boots! (from a naturally deceased dragon, they were assured). Well Harry supposed it was better than wearing Dudley's old shoes with the black tape covering the holes in the toes.

"Um Perce?" Harry asked as they unloaded their bags into Seraphina's living room.

"Mmmm," the older boy groaned as he stretched his back.

"How are we going to get these into the house? I mean obviously we could shrink them and have Sirius enlarge them again, but then I would need to explain how I came by them all! And where am I going to put them all."

"Well the majority of it is going to go straight into your trunk," before Harry could protest he added, "which I will enlarge. Normally school trunks have several compartments to keep things separate so that potions ingredients don't become contaminated and vials and ink pots are protected. However, I'm sure I can come up with something, but for now, I grabbed some owl order catalogues for both formal robes and a day clothes, which we can leave lying around the house. Most shops owl order you see. You can say that I bought the brochures with me, showed them to you and you ordered. We'll have Seraphina send us the first package tonight and then the rest spread out in a few packages over the next couple of days. Okay?" He reached out an arm to wrap around Harry's shoulders.

"Do you think Dobby would just pop us back into the library at Grimmauld, to save Ron having to create another diversion and organising the timing?" Harry looked up at Percival.

Black eyes, stared into green for a long moment, before lips split in a wide grin, "Harry that sounds perfect."

They sorted out the packages and, after making arrangements for the next visit with Seraphina, called for Dobby.

"I guess we'd better let Sirius and Ron know we're back," Harry said as he finished re-arranging his trunk. There was now a pile of rags on the floor beside it. "And I guess we'd better banish those so that we don't upset Kreacher with the mess. Will you show me how to do it wandlessly?"

With a beaming smile Percival separated a shirt from the pile, "the incantation is depulso, the hand action is like so," he gave a demonstration. "And the most important thing is to visualise exactly where the item is going to end up. If you don't, this happens. Depulso." He demonstrated.

The shirt shot away from them and landed on the other side of the bed.

"Which isn't very useful if you are trying to tidy up. For the purposes of these…..rags, imagine a big bin somewhere."

"Depulso." Harry's first effort was less than stellar, with the shirt merely flopping over. The second was somewhat better as it landed on the bed. Harry finally had true success on his third attempt. He doggedly practiced using each item of clothing individually, and not the whole pile at once. Leaving Harry with only the set of clothes he was wearing, at least until the first package arrived. By the end he was confident that he had gotten it correct. After that they emptied the entirety of Harry's trunk on the floor and sorted the contents. Percival solved the problem of space using several smaller single compartment trunks that Dobby had liberated from the attic and performing a spell on each to enlarge the space inside. Essentially this gave Harry individual compartments for: potions ingredients, breakables (vials and ink pots), stationary, books and clothes.

"Thanks Perce," and for once Harry initiated a hug.

The door to their room banged open, to reveal Hermione.

"Harry James Potter! What are you doing?" she asked shrilly, eyeing them shrewdly.

"Hermione Jean Granger, what are you doing?" Harry asked in intense but faux interest in return.

"Me?! We were talking about you!" The brown eyed girl was taken aback by the sudden attention.

"But you always want to talk about me, I think it's time you had some attention," Harry said coming close and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, staring intently at her forehead. "So, Hermione, what have you been up to today? Hmm, I haven't seen you anywhere? What did you eat for lunch Hermione? We can't have you missing meals and I want to be sure you're eating a balanced diet."

"I don't have to tell you anything!" she replied indignantly, shaking off his arm and stepping backwards. This meant she was just slightly on the outside of the doorway.

"Yeah well, neither do I," Harry flicked his hand at the door and banished it closed with a bang, after a moment of silence they could hear the sound of footsteps stamping down the stairs. Harry started giggling. "I….I…can't believe I did that. It felt kind of good!"

Five minutes later there was a polite tap at the door, "Who's there?"

"Just me," Ron's voice replied.

"Come in then," Harry called.

"What did you do to Hermione?" Ron asked curiously.

"Just asked her what she had been doing today why?"

"She's absolutely wild mate, I'd suggest avoiding her for a while if you can. How'd it go today? You don't have to give me details."

"Mostly it was good." A thought crossed Harry's mind, "Hey Ron, have you ever seen Hermione with some really old books. Like really old ones, ones that aren't from the Hogwarts library?"

Ron shrugged, "Only every day. There's been some odd ones too, definitely not things that would have been kept at Hogwarts! Not just recently mind, even in the summer holidays between second and third year, can't remember before that really."

"Hmm, I saw a Healer today, so don't be worried if you see me drinking random potions okay. And I've ordered some new clothes to replace Dudley's as well. We're going to pretend I owl ordered them."

Ron nodded, "It's about time too. The twins have a couple of catalogues I can get them to show you tonight, if that helps."

"Yeah it would. Thanks mate."

The door banged open again, but this time it was Ginny, "Mum said it's dinner time, the last one there has to eat rotten eggs."


	7. Chapter 7

The clothing reveal went off without a hitch, though there were a few side comments about Harry spending his inheritance frivolously from Mrs Weasley, especially after she saw the dragon hide boots. These complaints were quickly quashed by Sirius who insisted it was well past time that Harry had decent clothing. Lily and James would be quite happy to ensure that their son was properly dressed, he knew that both would have been horrified to see Harry in Dudley's cast offs, (not second-hand clothes per se but ones that were so ill fitting and worn out) and had a decent set of boots. In fact, Lily would insist that the boots were a safety requirement for anyone studying potions. Other than that, the next few days passed in relative harmony.

Each night Percival and Harry retired to the library after dinner to practice meditation, with Sirius joining them when there were no Order meetings. Focussing on repairing his occlumency shield combined with the meditation helped Sirius to address the grief and guilt he felt over the deaths of Lily and James for the first time, as opposed to the daily cycle of reliving the memories he had experienced care of the dementors. On the whole the practice appeared to be helping the shaggy haired man as much as his Godson, it had been several days since he had last referred to Harry as James.

Late one evening when the house was quiet and all the other occupants were in bed, Sirius wryly confessed that there was a part of him that was hoping that Harry would be expelled from Hogwarts so that they could spend time getting to know each other. He had a fantasy of the two of them leaving Britain and hiding out in Australia. With a bit of prompting from Percival he was able to acknowledge it wasn't necessarily healthy or the best option for Harry (though it might seem safer initially) and he promised to talk to Healer Addison about it once Harry returned to school. There was no doubt in Sirius' mind that Dumbledore would not allow his Golden Boy to be thrown out of Hogwarts.

In some ways Sirius' confessing his struggles with grief, guilt and visions of the past, encouraged Harry to admit to his own issues. Sitting in front of the flickering fire he finally revealed the contents of some of his nightmares (Percival decided that after the trial, Vernon was another issue he was going to raise with the Lawyer). Harry ran his fingers over the rug he was sitting on as he admitted his fear that the Horcrux would be able to fully possess him. Then there was also a long discussion over how Harry felt about Remus Lupin. Sirius was curious as to why he still referred to the man as 'Professor' and why he didn't consider him family. Finally, Harry was able to voice his anxiety that the ministry would just use the trial as another excuse to discredit and slander him further. This last fear was allayed somewhat by a letter they received from Samuel McMillan who arranged to meet them, along with Madame Picquery the day before the trial.

Of course, the time spent bonding didn't go unnoticed for long. Inevitably it was Molly who noticed Percival and Harry's daily disappearances into the library. When she brought it to the attention of the Headmaster, Sirius was challenged by Dumbledore at the next meeting of the Order. They had gathered as usual in the evening after dinner. The Headmaster sat at the head of the table and twinkled over his glasses at Sirius.

"Sirius can you tell me why you have been keeping Harry separate from his friends since he arrived?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about Albus?" Sirius replied calmly. Very briefly a wrinkle creased the Headmaster's brow, when had Sirius started to call him by name? He might have to take steps to bring Sirius back into line!

"Come now, Molly tells me you have been sequestering him away in the library, and yet no one has been able to find you once you have entered. You cannot keep encouraging the boy to hide away. I understand that you want to get to know him, but I can't condone you keeping him from his friends. It is important that he maintains contact with them so that he can recover from the dementor attack. You wouldn't want to stand in the way of his healing, would you?" the long pointed nose dropped so that mournful peering over the glasses could occur.

"As far as I'm aware Headmaster he hasn't been hiding away, I've been able to find him every time I've looked for him," Sirius answered airily, ignoring the guilt inducing look as he poured himself some tea from the pot on the table. "I understand, from the discussions we've had, that he's taking the opportunity to be a little more studious this summer," Sirius pretended he didn't see the lemon-sucking face that Snape pulled, turning to filling the cup Minerva held out in a silent request for tea instead. He thought the restraint he showed in not commenting was admirable. "He mentioned that he felt like he was letting his parent's down by the lack of effort he'd put in thus far and he wants to make amends for it."

"That would be good to see," Professor McGonagall, smiled. "I always thought that he had a lot of potential that he hasn't been using. I did wonder why he took Divination instead of Arithmancy or Runes, like Lily and James."

"It seems no-one thought to tell him anything about his parents, so he didn't know what they studied. I told him in a letter last year. He had no-one to advise him on what courses to take, so he just took the same ones as Ron. I believe Percival is intending on tutoring him in both subjects, and if he does well he will…." Sirius was interrupted from saying more by the Headmaster.

"Now, now, Sirius the library is a small room," Albus focussed on the topic he wanted discussed. Honestly who cared what the boy studied, it wouldn't make any difference in the end. "You can't tell me that he can stay hidden in there all day. It is easy to see that there are no hidden corners, the others say he isn't in there when they look for him. Where have you been taking him?"

Placing his cup on the table, Sirius glanced at the Headmaster for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal, "Well Albus if you must know. The other day I was encouraged to make an attempt to restore the family tapestry. Miraculously it worked! It seems that I was not magically disowned after all. That act has allowed myself and my heir to be accepted by the house and it revealed a portion of the library that had been previously concealed by the family magic. Looking at it I dare say that no one has been able to enter the deeper areas for as many as two hundred years. Harry has spent a great deal of time exploring and using the resources to completely review his homework."

Somber blue eyes, peered at Sirius over the half-moon spectacles, "Do you think that is wise Sirius? We all know the dark depths of depravity to which your family has descended. I don't believe that Harry should be exposed to such things, much less without supervision." Sirius stifled his chuckle at the predictability of Albus' condescending tone.

There were many hums of agreement from around the table and a murmur about finding some way to lock the children out of the library.

Leaning against the back of his chair, Sirius crossed his arms, and stared down the table, being sure to engage his occlumency shields. "Here's the thing Albus, it appears that what everyone knows about the Blacks isn't the truth. I will readily admit that most of the recent books, that is to say, the last one hundred and fifty to two hundred years' worth, are indeed of a darker nature. However, these have been spelled to prevent anyone under age or not related to the family from removing them. I was going to bring out the worst ones and ask Bill if he would have a look and check the protections after the meeting. The older books, that we have just gained access to, are not what I expected. It certainly surprised me. We have even found a copy of _A Treatise in the Exploration of Healing Charms_ \- by Morgan Asclepius. Which is hardly a dark book!"

A rapacious look crossed Dumbledore's face though he was quick to suppress it, "If that is the case, then I'll have to insist that you allow me to examine the books. Who knows, we might find something in there…." He began eagerly.

"Did you not hear me Albus, the House will only allow myself, as Head of the House, Harry, as my Heir and for some strange reason Harry's friend Percival," there was an odd twist to Dumbledore's face that Sirius did not miss, "to access the deeper sections. Books can be removed to the parlour for a short time by the Head of the House," he raised a hand to forestall Albus' interjection, "however if they are in anyone else hands they immediately return to the shelves. It is impossible to take anyone else in there, which is why Harry's friends haven't been able to find him. They already know this, and Ron at least seems to understand and support Harry's new interest in studying. Besides, he is a boy, not a pet, Albus. "Snape snorted. "And as such he is allowed to spend his time where he chooses. You cannot dictate what he does."

When Dumbledore spoke, it was clear that he was ignoring Sirius' last comment, "Well I must insist that Harry, spends some time with his friends it's no good for him to be cooped up for too long. Nor to spend his entire holidays working on his homework," Dumbledore paused as if considering things further. "I also understand that Harry has been receiving a series of potions. He needs to stop immediately and as his Godfather I must ask you to tell him. Who knows what he is consuming?"

"What?!" Lupin exclaimed, turning to his friend. "Sirius, did you know about this? What's he taking?" There was concern in those pale green eyes, golden flecks just starting to break through.

"Pftt, Remus, don't start acting like you care about him now," Sirius scoffed.

"What?! I have always cared about him! He's part of my pack, he's my pup!" Remus denied with a shake of his head.

"I will tell you now that, that's not how Harry sees it. And before you become all self-depreciating it's not about the wolf. If you want to know why then you will have to talk to Harry," Sirius reached out to take up his cup once more.

Remus opened then closed his mouth before taking a deep breath and pushing the hurt aside said, "That's beside the point Sirius, you can't support Harry in this….potion taking behaviour!'

There was a mirthless laugh and the cup paused just short of Sirius' lips, "Did you ever stop to consider that there might be a very good reason for Harry to take these potions?" He glared at the adults gathered around the table sternly. "Did any of you ever wonder why, when Lily and James were as tall as they were, Harry's so damn short? Why is he as thin as he is? I know that I did the moment I laid eyes on him!" Albus opened his mouth, but Sirius kept going, pointing a finger at the old man. "Do not even consider telling me he's a fussy eater or some other rubbish! We have all observed that Harry will eat anything that is placed in front of him without complaint!" Sirius paused and made an effort to moderate his volume and tone to make them less confrontational. "Now I know, that Molly will have told you about some of the arguments that have gone on in this house recently, but the main point to take from them is that my Godson, has not been treated as he should have while under the care of his relatives."

"Oh Please, so Prince Potter was not pandered to at every opportunity!" scoffed Snape.

"Shut it Snape!" Sirius snapped. "I mean, he was locked in a cupboard, fed one meal a day if he was lucky, forced to do more chores than one would reasonably expect a person twice his age to be capable of and was beaten if he didn't finish them or made a mistake. Before you deny it, he has the scars to prove it. If you must know I have approved the potions he is taking."

There was quiet around the table for minute before a chorus of protestations broke out.

"Now Sirius," And there was the patented look of Disapproval and Disappointment again. "You really shouldn't encourage these delusions. It's true Harry hasn't been as loved as we might like, but Vernon and Petunia….."

"You left the boy with Petunia!" Snape choked out, through a horror clenched throat. "By the Gods we're lucky he's not an obscurial!"

"Now, now, Severus there's no need for the dramatics. Harry is fine, he's just exaggerating in order to get attention," Dumbledore dismissed Snape's concerns. "Potions are certainly not warranted."

Severus failed to acknowledge the Headmaster and continued talking, "I insist that I check the potions that the boy is receiving!" He looked directly at Sirius, who nodded his acceptance.

"I would appreciate that Snape," Sirius inclined his head. The rest of the room had devolved into bickering over whether the claims were true, with almost half agreeing with the Headmaster and Rita Skeeter, that Harry was a disturbed boy prone to exaggeration and making up stories.

It was a few minutes before Albus could re-gain control of the meeting and seeing that he wasn't going to stop the current disagreement he turned the discussion to the more suitable topic of guarding the item in the Department of Mysteries.

Now that they had Dobby's help and Dumbledore's acceptance of the restricted access to the deeper parts of the library, they found it easier to escape Grimmauld Place for their meeting with Samuel McMillan. Mr Samuel McMillan was a distinguished gentleman of indeterminable years who's calm deep voice and stoic demeanour went a long way to easing Harry's fears.

"First of all, Mr Graves here has provided a written statement from a Dudley Dursley. Who is your….?"

"He's my cousin."

"And do you reside with your cousin?"

"Yes."

"Does your cousin know about magic? Or rather, did your cousin know about magic prior to the events on August the Second?"

"Yes, he did."

"Good. Now on the night in question, were there any other witnesses to the performance of the patronus charm?"

"Not apart from Percival, everyone else had gone home and we were in a dark alleyway."

"Excellent. Now there is a spell that will show the last spells that were cast by your wand. Do you know it?"

"Yes. Prior Incantato."

"Good. Do I have your permission to perform this spell on your wand at the trial tomorrow?" He hardly waited for Harry's nod before continuing. "There are two other means of confirming the events that happened. The first is the use of veritaserum, which is potent truth serum and the second is with the extraction of the memory. Now the first would require your guardian's approval, which given she is a muggle, should be fine for a hearing. However, given the current political environment, I believe that they will escalate the situation to a full trial, and it would then not be admissible. Memories can be modified, so are generally not accepted as a reliable means of evidence in court. Though an argument could be made that due to your age, you're unlikely to have the ability to manipulate them, so I will keep that one up my sleeve for now. Be assured though that in this the law is on your side."

"Mr McMillan," Percival said gaining the lawyer's attention. "If you look at the statement written by Dudley, you can see evidence that he is actually a squib. Is it not possible that Harry's Aunt could be the same? In which case if she signed a declaration would it not be possible to use it in the trial? If not, I am sure that my guardian would be willing to give permission for me to take veritaserum, instead of Harry."

Mr McMillan rubbed a hand over his chin, "Excellent thinking my lad." He glanced at Harry, "do you think she would be amenable?"

"Perhaps, if you approached the house as a muggle, and only arrived after my Uncle has left for work?"

"Right well if you'll give me the address, I'll follow that up this afternoon. I will be waiting for you in the Ministry foyer tomorrow morning."

Harry jotted down the address on a scrap of parchment while asking Magic to bless the meeting between Aunt Petunia and Mr McMillan. As he passed the address over, his Lawyer gave him a last piece of advice, "tomorrow, be confident in your answers. Do not let them cut you off. You are the Heir of House Potter, one of the most distinguished houses this country has ever seen and that means you can command their respect. You will have Percival and myself on your side, and if all else fails," he gave a sly glance at Seraphina, "I'm sure our ex-Lady President here can move you to America to complete your education."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," Seraphina said shaking his hand and sending him through the floo. "Now boys, how about some lunch and you can tell me all about those fascinating books you've been finding in that library of yours."

Unsurprisingly Harry woke early the next morning, a quick tempus revealed it to be before 5.30. He rolled on to his back with a groan. There was no way he was getting back to sleep now. A snuffle from beside him had him rolling back onto his side so he could see Percival. The older boy was resting peacefully for once and Harry didn't want to disturb him, so he spent a few silent minutes just observing the outline of his roommate's body under the covers.

Finally, Harry huffed out a breath, he really should get ready. It wouldn't do to be late but lying in bed was so much more preferable to facing the upcoming trial. Seraphina had advised them to arrive at the ministry before eight, because eight was the absolute earliest that a trial could start as per some obscure law written in the 1700s, after one member had called a session at two o'clock in the morning. Apparently half the Wizengamot had been un-impressed at being woken and the other half were drunk. They had passed a law that it was illegal to wear purple feather boas on Saturdays. Seraphina wouldn't be meeting them with Mr McMillan, instead she would be joining her friend Amelia in order for her entrance to have the most impact.

Scrubbing a hand over his head, Harry decided to have a shower to start the day and shuffled into the ensuite. It seemed Mrs Weasley had been in at some point during the night as there was a set of freshly washed and pressed jeans and a tee-shirt for him to wear hanging over the towel rail. Well wasn't she going to be surprised! The shower steamed up the mirror, obscuring Harry's pale reflection.

Fortunately, by the time he had finished Dobby had hung his formal clothes and robes from a hook on the back of the bathroom door, so he was able to dress without disturbing Percival. After trying to make some order of his Eventually Harry emerged from the bathroom, to find a sleep addled Percival sitting on his bed rubbing his eyes.

"Morning," he greeted the taller boy.

"Morning Harry," Percival's jaw split in a wide yawn. "Wait for me I won't be long."

Harry moved to sit on his bed and Hedwig, fluttered over to his shoulder. He reached up a hand to stroke her chest.

"Even with all the help, I'm still worried," he admitted. "What if they don't allow Mr McMillan to speak? I don't think I could do it on my own." Hedwig coo'ed at him and butted her head against his cheek.

Percival, true to his word, emerged from the bathroom not even ten minutes later wearing formal robes and joined Harry in traipsing down the stairs to the kitchen. Surprisingly Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Remus and Tonks were all already sitting at the table, cups of tea present in every hand. Much to the annoyance of the others, as indicated by the irritated glances he was receiving, Sirius was nervously tapping his fingers on the table. He stopped as soon as he saw Harry.

"Did you sleep alright….?" the Animagus began only to be cut off by the Weasley matriarch.

"Now what are you wearing Harry?" Mrs Weasley huffed derisively. "I laid your clothes out for you. I want you to run upstairs and change. We discussed this at the Order meeting and Professor Dumbledore feels that appearing in a thoroughly non-magical fashion will give the best impression. You don't want to start the hearing off on the wrong foot now do you? Arthur will walk you down and take you through the visitor's entrance. He's a bit excited that you'll get to catch the train, just like a muggle. Now what would you like for breakfast, I'll put it on while you're changing."

"Um," Harry was a little bamboozled by her verbal barrage. "Um, just toast thanks," he said in the end as he sat down next to Sirius, who was now jigging his leg. He decided to ignore her comments about his clothes for now. A moment later Arthur walked in.

"Now Harry, you'll come to work with me. The hearing is on the same floor as my office," Mr Weasley stated as he finished buttoning up his robes. Mrs Weasley put a plate of kippers and toast in front of her husband.

"What about Percival?" Harry enquired, wondering if he could get away with having a cup of coffee.

"What?" Arthur paused with a forkful of food, halfway to his mouth.

"Percival?" Harry pointed at his friend. "He will be my key witness, so he needs to come with me. We're meeting …"

"Huh, well I guess he'll make his own way there," Arthur shrugged dismissively, and continued eating.

"No," Percival, could not remain silent in the face of this farce any longer. "And quite frankly this 'non-magical' thing you're trying to arrange here is utterly ridiculous and quite likely to put the judge off right away. We'll floo Harry," he stated flatly. "Mr McMillan, is expecting us at 7.40 near the fountain of Magical Brethren."

Arthur gulped like a fish, "Now you see here, Dumbledore made these arrangements, I think we can all agree that he knows best about these things. We know that the floo system is being watched!"

Sirius snorted, "Arthur the house is under fidelius so anyone watching won't be able to tell where he has come from and it doesn't matter if the someone is watching the floo, because they already know where Harry is going to be today."

"Sorry Mr Weasley, but I'm with Percival on this one," Harry cut in. "I have no doubt that the ministry is going to bump this up above a simple hearing for under age wizardry to a full trial, so I'm going in prepared for a proper court case. Which is why I won't be changing clothes. I'm sorry if you were put out Mrs Weasley," he added with an apologetic smile.

"Is that why you're meeting McMillan?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded, "He got in contact with me recently." Harry mentioned offhandedly to make it seem like a coincidence to those listening in. "Apparently the Potters have had McMillan and Sons on retainer for the last three generations. Given the circumstances I thought it would be good to get appropriate legal advice. And after the trial we're going to discuss with him what can be done about the slander in the prophet and those books that someone has published in my name, I never gave permission for anything like that." That conversation had actually already happened, but they didn't need to know that. This way it wouldn't be unexpected when it all came out.

He turned to look at his friend, "Are you ready Perce?" With a nod the other boy rose from his place and the two made their way over to the fireplace. "Wish me luck," he said fatalistically.

"Before you go Harry," Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a quick hug before pulling back and looking him in the eye. "Amelia Bones is going to be in charge. She was in Hogwarts years before I was, so we haven't met, but the word is that she's fair. So you shouldn't need to worry. She'll hear you out. Stay calm and listen to McMillan. Look after him Percival," he glanced at the other boy who nodded. He gave Harry another quick hug before stepping back so Harry could move over to the floo.

"Thanks Sirius."

"Best of Luck Harry," Remus Lupin, somewhat awkwardly reached around Sirius to pat Harry's shoulder. Harry smiled hesitantly at him before grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and stepping into the fireplace without another word.

He whirled around in the green flames, stepping out calmly and confidently when they came to a stop (thank heavens they had spent an afternoon flooing between Grimmauld place and Seraphina's apartment to practice). Harry emerged into a very long and splendid hall. One of the glossy black-green tile lined walls had a multitude of fireplaces set into it, through which dozens of workers were arriving to start their day. With a quick step to the side Harry cleared the way for Percival to exit the fireplace. A hurried inspection of their robes revealed the need for a wandless cleaning charm, fortunately there were no creases. Surprisingly Mr Weasley had followed them through.

"Now boys," the balding man said as he bustled up behind them. "I'm afraid you can't…. I mean I can't just allow you to meet this Mr McMillan. I…I mean..we…I mean…you don't know him…"

"Mr Potter, Mr Graves," a confident baritone called. And they were both very relieved to see tall figure of Mr McMillan approaching. "I'm so glad that you've managed to get here on time, if you'll follow me." He turned to lead them away.

"Now listen here!" Arthur said firmly, grabbing the man's arm and turning him back around. "I don't know what business you have with Harry but I …"

"What business I have?" Samuel McMillan raised an eyebrow. Then looking the redhead up and down he continued, "Mr Weasley I presume? The business that I have with these young gentlemen, is that I have been employed as Mr Potter's legal representative. As such, I need to ensure that they arrive at the appropriate location at the correct time for Mr Potter's trial, so if you'll excuse me." He turned and headed towards the lifts with a flustered Mr Weasley following behind.

"Now boys, I have been advised that the trial has been moved, we are headed directly there, so straighten yourselves up. And Mr Graves," he made eye contact with the older boy, "I'm afraid your guardian will be arriving a trifle late," he finished with a smirk.

"Is that so, and she's usually so prompt!" Percival smiled.

After registering their wands with the grumpy Welcome Wizard at the security desk, they paused in front of the fountain. Harry saw silver sickles and bronze knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:

ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES.

"What do you think Perce?" Harry asked. "Is it like a muggle wishing well?"

There were crinkles around Percival's eyes as he smiled, "Well it can't hurt Harry, especially not with a request for Magic to bless your trial."

A moment later Harry had his Gringotts pouch in his hand and was reaching into to it for a galleon, Mr Weasley blustering beside him not to waste his money, "Lady Magic, hear my plea, I ask your blessings on this trial, let the truth be known and justice done."

"Blessings be," repeated Percival and Mr McMillan, ignoring the shocked expression on Mr Weasley's face.

"Now we're going to courtroom ten," Samuel said as they entered the lift, "If one of you could press the button."

"But, that's not right, we were told it's in Amelia Bones' office" Arthur protested, as they were joined in the lift by a half dozen workers, a number of inter-departmental memos and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who slipped behind Arthur in the crowded lift and whispered in his ear. "Oh, ne…never mind. On to courtroom ten then," he stammered, flapping his hand around his head in an attempt to ward off two memos that had started attacking him. Eventually he gave up and plucked them from the air, scrunching them up and pushing them deeply into one of his pockets to be read later. Fortunately, Harry had already pressed the appropriate button.

"They haven't used those courtrooms for years," said Mr Weasley angrily. "I can't think why they're doing it down here - unless," Mr Weasley stopped speaking as the lift was inundated with another stream of passengers.

"Right then Harry," Mr Wesley said as they arrived on the right level. He grabbed Harry by the elbow and propelled him out of the lift, leaving Percival and Mr McMillan to follow. Mr Weasley bought them up to a plain black door at the end of an empty corridor. Half expecting to be herded through it Harry was surprised when Mr Weasley seized him by the arm and dragged him to the left where there was an opening leading down a flight of stairs.

"Down here, down here," panted Mr Weasley, taking two steps at a time, he seemed to be trying to run away from Percival and Mr McMillan, which Harry thought a little odd. "The lift doesn't even come down as far as this."

They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts.

"Courtroom…Ten…I think ….we're nearly….Yes." Mr Weasley stumbled to a halt outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock and slumped against the wall.

"Not ominous at all," huffed Percival as he sauntered up behind them.

"Yeah it'd give Snape's dungeon a run for its money," Harry grinned, and he wiped his hands down his robes to settle them after the flight through the corridors,

"Right I suppose we had best get in there," Mr McMillan said and leading the way he turned the heavy iron door handle and stepped inside the courtroom.

Harry had to suppress the urge to gulp, reminding himself to stand tall, as he entered a large dungeon which was strikingly familiar. This was the place he had visited inside of Dumbledore's pensieve, the place he had watched the Lestranges be sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

A cold male voice rang out across the courtroom, "You're late."

Mr McMillan, instantly on alert replied, "I beg to differ. Not only are we early, as no trial may commence before eight am," here he visually checked the time, the numbers glowing before him showing 07:55. "But court rules state that all attendees must be advised in writing of any changes to times of hearings and trials."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice arrogantly. "An owl was sent to you this morning."

But the Lawyer would not be cowed, "All notice must be received no later than twenty-four hours prior to the scheduled hearing time. As such if the owl was sent this morning then you are in fact in breach of the law, which would result in this hearing being declared null and void."

There was silence for a moment before the voice stuttered, "Y…Ye…Yesterday morning, advice was sent yesterday."

"You're not very sure of that are you. I expect you to show me the delivery slips before I leave today."

"It doesn't matter, we are all here now," cut in another voice. "Mr Potter take your seat."

Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick he looked up at the people seated on the benches above him. In the middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on Fudge's left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. The seat on the other side of her was vacant. On Fudge's right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow. It seemed that Percival had slipped into a seat off to one side as they had entered.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice Harry knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry smiled at him, ignoring the fact that he gave no response. Harry couldn't blame him really. Not after the fight he had, had with his family. If you looked at it from a certain point of view, Percy was really just trying to protect his family, it could be seen in the letter that Ron had received the previous year and Harry couldn't blame him for that.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice and Percy began taking notes at once. "Into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident of number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley."

"Lawyer for the defence, Mr Samuel Jonathon McMillan the third, with Witness for the defence, Mr Percival Ezra Graves," Mr McMillan interjected in a strong voice, that had the Minister pausing.

"I wasn't notified of a witness," exclaimed the Minister. "Permission for him to speak is denied."

"Uh hum," Samuel cleared his throat and projected a copy of a form that he held in his hand onto the blank wall behind him for everyone to see. "As you can Minister, I have here a verified copy of my request to present both a witness and other evidence. Stamped, approved and filed within four days of the original trial date and time as per procedure."

"None the less. We don't need to clutter this trial with what I am sure was to be a well-rehearsed fabricated story that Mr Potter has made up, and which one of his friends has agreed to support, either out of fear or some desire to obtain a little second-hand fame!"

The chains clinked and moved as Harry stood and raised his wand to the ceiling, "I, Harry James Potter, swear that every word I speak in this courtroom from now until the end of this trial shall be the truth. On my magic so mote it be."

Red cords pulsed around him. The courtroom was stunned to silence.

Finally Fudge, who looked as if he had just swallowed a lemon, shuffled his notes and deciding to ignore the oath spoke, "Well then. So. The Charges. Yes," he extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, "The charges against the accused are as follows; That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having previously received a written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree of Reasonable Restriction of Under Age Sorcery, 1875 and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. You are Harry James Potter of number four Privet Drive Little Whinging Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

"He is," answered McMillan though Fudge studiously ignored him.

"You received an official warning three years ago, did you not?"

"He did, though the details of that are currently being investigated Minister, as such they may not be used as evidence in this trial," McMillan smirked.

"What!"

"Yes, you see it appears, that a house elf has actually confessed to having cast that piece of magic, which has raised the question as to the accuracy of the Ministries detection system. It seems to be unable to tell the difference between human Magic and Elf magic. An investigation has been started and the results at this stage….."

"That's not the point," huffed Fudge. "The point is that Mr Potter knew about the laws."

"Yes, he did," agreed Mr McMillan.

"Right. And on the night of the second of August Harry James Potter did knowingly produce a Patronus charm in front of a Muggle!"

"He did not," denied the Lawyer.

"What!"

"He did not produce the patronus charm on the night in question Minister."

Fudge looked around, then flipped hurriedly through the pieces of parchment he was holding "What name was it. Ah yes Hopkirk!" He pulled another sheet out of the pile and placed it on top. "Here is the document. It says right here! That you, Harry Potter, produced a patronus on the night of the second."

"I did not," Harry denied strongly, it was the first time he had actually spoken, since giving his oath and his words were heavy with the weight of the vow, there was no mistaking the truth of them.

"Th….the…then explain what happened!"

Mr McMillan took over, "It is simple Minister. Harry was out at the park, in the presence of his cousin. Here he met with our witness Mr Graves, who was seeking some advice on muggle transportation, having become lost in the area. When a pair of dementors descended upon them. It was Mr Graves who, after first confirming that Mr Potter's cousin knew of magic, cast the charm. An act which is not illegal in his country of origin."

"Hem hem," the witch beside the Minister cleared her throat. "Are you implying that Ministry controlled Dementors were out of bounds roaming around in a Muggle neighbourhood Mr Potter?" For some reason she refused to direct the question to the lawyer.

"They were," Harry responded with words like lead.

"I am not sure whether this tale is a result of your deluded mind, or if someone has pressured you into making these false accusations against the Ministry Mr Potter," she said derisively ignoring the fact that he was oath-bound, "but I will not tolerate you deriding the ministry. And to convince this other poor soul to lie for you is the epitome of…"

The door to the courtroom crashed open, and a woman swept in. It was the power of her aura as much as the glittering robe that she wore that drew the attention of the room. "I hope I'm not too late Amelia," Seraphina's dulcet tones echoed around the room.

"What is the meaning of this! We are in the middle of a very important trial. You can't just come waltzing in here. Those doors should be locked!" spat the Minister.

The witch seated next to Fudge rose to her feet, "Really Fudge, is that anyway to treat Madame Picquery. Surely you recognise her. You remember the ex-President of MACUSA?" Amelia prompted, smiling at Fudge benignly. "She asked if she could visit, I told you about it on Wednesday, you agreed that it would be alright." Seraphina took the empty seat, next to Amelia Bones.

Wiping his now scarlet face with a handkerchief Fudge stuttered a greeting to their guest, before adding sharply, "If I may continue."

"By all means go ahead, I have always wondered what the inner workings of the British Ministry were like. It seems rather odd, to hold a full criminal trial, for a simple case of underage Magic! It certainly wouldn't happen in America."

A red-faced Fudge turned back to the floor, "Now tell us the truth Mr Potter, you cast the Patronus in front of the Muggle knowing full well….."

"As has been previously stated Minister, I did not," Harry continued to deny, remembering to remain calm.

"If I might clarify the situation Minister," Mr McMillan picked up another piece of parchment and projected it onto the wall. "This is the written statement of the individual in question. He clearly states he could see the dementors therefore he is not in actual fact a Muggle at all but is instead a squib. This is also evidenced by his signature in blood, and if we cast the right charm," there was a slight pause as Samuel, pulled out his wand and cast. "Like so, we can indeed see that there is a small amount of magic present. It is not all that surprising seeing as he is the nephew of Lily Potter. Therefore, no breaking of the International Statute of Secrecy occurred regardless of who cast the patronus. If that is not enough evidence…" He glanced up at the muttering Wizengamot and the scowling Fudge. "Then continuing on, I believe it is time for our witness to make a statement."

"I am not going to listening to some cock and bull story made up by a delusion teenager," spat Fudge. "He's obviously been taken in by Harry Potter who we all know is mentally unstable."

Samuel McMillan paused, glanced sideways at Harry, who had slumped slightly in the chair and decided that , yes this was time, "I will address your last point first, Minister," McMillan stated solemnly. "Are you in fact a Healer?"

"What?!" spat the Minister in disbelief, rising to his feet.

"It was a simple question, are you a healer? Hmm, No? Well then you are in no way qualified to state that someone is or is not in their right mind. Such a statement is slanderous. A fact that I will be pursuing on behalf of Mr Potter will be pursuing at a later time."

"I am the Minister for Magic, you cannot speak to me this way. Mr Potter is lying!"

A soft voice cut across the Ministers diatribe, "I have already sworn an oath to Magic, but as that appears not to be enough for you, I am willing to submit to questioning under vertiaserum."

With a gulping of air, Fudge bought himself under control, and said with a sneer, "Unfortunately Mr Potter. You are a minor and as such require your guardian's permission. Given she is a Muggle, it is inadmissible in this court!" Fudge sat down triumphantly.

"Again, Minister Fudge," McMillan projected yet another parchment and the Minister scowled. "Here we can see that Mrs Dursley nee Evans, as evidenced by her signature, is in fact also a squib, as such she is of magical descent and…"

"Regardless," Fudge sneered. "The fact remains that as a squib, her evidence is inadmissible."

"That point could very well be debated Minister, however this isn't a statement of evidence. If you had taken the time to read it, you would have seen that it is in fact her permission for her nephew to be given veritaserum. I think that you will find that following the trial in 1864 of Pollux Black against Renita Goldsworthy a precedent was set, that allows any Magical relative of a minor to give written permission for the use of veritaserum in a trial." The smirk that graced McMillan's face had definite shark-like qualities.

"Minister Fudge," Madame Picquery said in a deceptively demur voice. "The lads relative has clearly given permission. If you aren't willing to accept it, I suggest you move things along. I have no doubt that the honourable members of this body have more important matters to attend to then this charade. In order to hasten proceedings, I will advise you now that I give permission for my ward to give his testimony under veritaserum. So, the truth will be uncovered regardless of your decision." She smiled at him innocently.

"Your ward?" Fudge choked out.

"Yes," she nodded sweetly. "The witness who is my Godson. You remember the one you were sayings was perhaps coerced into appearing or what was it that you implied…..that he was after a little bit of second-hand fame?!" Seraphina continued to smile at the Minister.

"Ah…." Fudge stuttered.

"Yes, perhaps you would like to consider the International incident that might result from your ill-considered words? Did you really think that I was interested in turning up to what is clearly a jumped-up farce of a trial, that has been designed to sate your vendetta against young Mr Potter?" she raised an eyebrow. Mr Fudge sank back in his chair. "Now make your decision wisely."

With a glance at Amelia Bones, who inclined her head. Fudge barked out, "Please bring veritaserum for Mr Potter."

An elderly wizard, wearing purple robes the same colour as the rest of the Wizengamot, but with no insignia, shuffled into the room, carrying a small green glass bottle on a cushion. Amelia descended the stairs to take the bottle from him.

"As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I am delivering the dose of three drops of veritaserum to Mr Harry James Potter," Amelia stated formally. She indicated for Harry to open his mouth and placed the drops onto his tongue, immediately his face became blank.

"Test question one: Mr Potter what colour are your eyes?"

"Green."

"What is your date of birth?"

"31st of July 1980," Harry could hear and understand the question it just felt like he couldn't stop the emotionless words from falling out of his mouth.

"The veritaserum has been verified and I will begin the questioning. Mr Potter, what happened on the night of the second of August at approximately twenty minutes past nine?"

"I was in the park and had been stopped by my cousin Dudley and his gang. They had me surrounded when suddenly the temperature dropped, and it started to get dark. All Dudley's friends fled. Dudley and I ran to an alleyway near Wisteria walk. I noticed we had been joined by another boy. In the alley Dudley stopped. Dudley was accusing me of causing it, and Percival asked if Dudley lived with me, he said yes. Then he asked if he knew about magic, Dudley again said yes. I had drawn my wand, but Percival told me not to use it and he cast Lumos Maxima, which revealed two dementors entering the alley. Dudley gasped and nearly collapsed to the floor. Then Percival cast a Patronus, it drove the dementors away. When they had gone, we helped Dudley up and Mrs Figg found us…"

"That should do for the moment Harry?"

"Hem, hem, surely you can't mean to say that two Ministry Dementors were so far from Azkaban, Mr Potter. All dementors are under the Ministry's control. Surely you aren't implying that someone at the Ministry ordered such a thing? I mean why would anyone do such a thing?"

There was a small part of Harry's mind that decided to take the opportunity that was offered by this rhetorical question, despite it not being addressed to him and his mouth just answered, "Because Fudge or someone who supports him wants me silenced," the monotonous words still holding the weight of his earlier vow, made the statement both more and less dramatic, there was a susurrus from the stands.

"Why would Minister Fudge want you silenced?" asked Amelia Bones, Seraphina drew her wand, and keeping it hidden in the sleeve of her robe pointed it at Fudge ready to silence him if necessary, but he seemed to have been struck dumb.

"Last June I witnessed the re-birth of Voldemort and at the end of my third year, I presented him with evidence that Sirius Black was innocent. He doesn't wish for either event to become known."

"Sirius Black is innocent? You are aware that he is responsible for revealing the location of your safe house to Voldemort, resulting in the Deaths of your parents?"

"Yes. He couldn't have revealed that knowledge, as he was not the secret keeper and he is my Godfather."

"If he wasn't the secret keeper, who was?"

"Peter Pettigrew," Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it again. "I think we will examine that later. After all Sirius was sentenced after his trial."

Despite there not being a question that small part of his brain that still seemed able to respond forced a reply to pass his lips, "He had no trial. He was taken straight to Azkaban."

The Wizengamot's murmuring grew louder.

Fudge banged his gavel, "Silence! Silence! Amelia that is not the focus of this trial, if you continue with this line of questioning, I will have you removed"

Stonily Amelia raised a hand to stop Fudge from speaking any further, "I might remind you Minister," her words were clipped. "That there is still information I need in order to be able to perform my job properly. Mr Potter, tell me about the events that happened in June?"

It was if a tight spring in his centre had been released and in a waterfall of words, Harry told them everything. He told them about the end of the Maze, and the decision to take the cup together with Cedric. Of Pettigrew and the words 'kill the spare'. The words spilled out of him, the potion, the ritual, and the man emerging from the cauldron. Then the fight and the joining of wands, seeing his parents and finally Cedric's last request. There was a cry from the far corner of the room as Amos Diggory broke down once more as the boy in front of him recounted the last moments of his son's life in an emotionless monotone. Finally, Harry spoke of his return to Hogwarts, the transformation of Alastor Moody into Barty Crouch Junior, the Dementors kiss being administered to Barty Crouch Junior at the Fudges direction and the Minister's conversation with Albus Dumbledore.

As the drops of the antidote hit his tongue and the veritaserum induced fog lifted from Harry's eyes Harry glanced up at the stunned Wizengamot. There was a surprising mix of both shocked and disturbingly blank faces. He glanced sideways, Percival was wearing a decidedly pleased expression.

Just as Fudge was lifting his gavel to call the proceedings back to order, the door Harry had entered through opened to admitted Albus Dumbledore.

"Witness for the defence Albus Wulfric…." He began to intone.

Snap. Fudge bought the gavel down, "I believe we are up to the sentencing. Raise your wands if you believe the accused to be guilty of the charges as stated." A dozen or so of the blank faced wizards raised their wands.

"Thank you," then with a sigh in defeat at the foregone conclusion he said. "Raise your wands if you believe the accused to be not guilty." A significantly larger number of wands were raised. "Cleared of all charges," Fudge grumbled bringing down the gavel for the last time.

"Shall I contact the Senior Undersecretary to make an appointment so that we can discuss the issue of slander Minister Fudge?" Mr McMillan. Fudge just winced and scurried out after the aforementioned secretary.

"I would like to have a discussion with your client, Sam," Amelia Bones approached the accused's chair as Harry was standing up on shaky legs. Percival drew the younger boy into a rough hug. They didn't see the Headmaster approaching.

"Now Amelia," twinkle. "I'm afraid that, that won't be possible, besides don't you think that Mr Potter deserves to enjoy his summer? Hmmm." Twinkle.

"I will make the arrangements as necessary Amelia, though I will want to ensure the safety of my client," Samuel McMillan responded ignoring Dumbledore.

"Completely understandable Sam."

By this time Seraphina Picquery had joined the group on the floor, "Percy." She held her arms open for a hug, which was freely given. "And young Mr Potter, my Godson has told me a great deal about you." She shook Harry's hand as if they were meeting for the first time.

"Percival is your Godson?" Dumbledore enquired as if he were only mildly interested.

"Why yes Albus. I'm sure you remember his namesake, such a tragic loss. Now I have had about all I can stomach of the British Ministry for the time being, so we will bid you farewell, Sam. I am sure that if you are anything like my ward Mr Potter, you will soon be looking for something to sate your hunger."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible Sera," Albus began.

"I believe that proprietary states that you should address me as Madame Picquery, Mr Dumbledore," she responded sharply. "And as there is no doubt to the safety of my apartment, I believe the boys and I will leave."

"Be that as it may, Harry, cannot go with you Se….Madame Piquery, he is currently under my guardianship."

"Since when?" Harry asked, in confusion.

"Why always my boy!" Dumbledore seemed surprised at the question. Percival surreptitiously moved his hand to cup Harry's neck as he felt his friend tense. With some members of the Wizengamot still leaving (some were very elderly and moved slowly, others were covertly trying to spy on the group) it wouldn't do to have Harry blow up at the Headmaster right this minute. He hoped Harry would forgive his intervention.

"I am afraid that is not the case Mr Dumbledore," Mr McMillan said, pulling out a piece of parchment from his never-ending pile and waving it briefly in front of the Headmaster. "The wills that Lily and James' filed with us are quite clear. Harry was supposed to go into the care of Sirius Black with assistance and guidance from a Mr Remus John Lupin," Harry tensed again, and Percival began to drew circles on the back of Harry's neck with his thumb. "Failing that his guardianship was and is to be held by the Magical person or persons whose house in which he resides."

"Exactly," Dumbledore smiled beatifically, this was just the opening he needed to get the boy back under his control. "As his Aunt is a muggle, then his residence for ten months of the year is Hogwarts and so I am his guardian."

"Even if that were correct Mr Dumbledore, it would be Professor McGonagall as his Head of House who would act in loco parentis as per Hogwarts charter. As it is I proved earlier that Petunia Dursley is a squib, and she has given permission for Harry to spend some time in the company of Madame Picquery and her Godson. In fact, she has asked Madame Picquery to take over Harrys guardianship in the Magical world for the foreseeable future. She signed the paperwork just yesterday, which includes permission for him to visit her residence and even to stay there while Hogwarts is in recess." A look of annoyance crossed Dumbledore's face.

"Then I must insist on inspecting the protections…" Dumbledore started to say, yes if he could get in the house he could add some monitoring charms. The boy was just not behaving the way that he should, the issue needed to be addressed. Perhaps it was because of Sirius Black? Yes probably. It was understandable that Harry who had been denied the love of a Family for so long, when presented with one, would cling to it. Clearly, the boy idolised the man. That would have to be dealt with and soon! Surely there was someone he could use at Grimmauld place to drive a wedge between the two.

"No. Dumbledore. The only thing I will tell you is that my place of residence in London is protected by the Fidelius, and the secret keeper is not on this continent. The other protections have been erected by the Head of Macusa's Department of Security. I assure you that Mr Potter will be perfectly safe while he is visiting."

"But don't you think Harry should spending time with his friends?" Albus tried a different avenue. Really the woman was infuriating! She had no reason to be interfering. What could Percival have possibly told her? He had only known Harry a couple of weeks.

"Headmaster, she isn't kidnapping me! We're just going to have lunch. I'll be back in time for tea. I promised Ron to let him beat me at chess tonight," Harry smiled innocently.

"You really need to raise your goals Harry," Percival dropped his hand so that he could elbow the shorter boy in the ribs.

"You can't comment until you've played against him! Then remember I only learnt the game in first year! I can't wait to get out of these robes," Harry huffed suddenly, pulling at his collar.

"Did you even bring anything to change into?" Mr McMillan asked curiously, as he hadn't noticed either boy carrying a bag.

"Um, no," Harry groaned, dropping his head to his chest.

"It's alright I'm sure I've got something you can wear at Aunt Sera's," Percival reached out and messed up Harry's hair.

"Hey, don't do that, it took me ages to get it that neat this morning!"

"That was neat?!"

"Well it was neater then it's ever been before!" Harry protested.

"Mr Potter, you do realise that your Grandfather created a potion, specifically aimed at controlling hair as wild as yours, don't you?" Seraphine Picquery asked with a smile.

"Uh, no. Does it work? Wait! Did you know him?" Harry turned his green eyes on her imploringly.

"Not well," Seraphina replied, smile growing. "But we did cross paths once or twice. How about I tell you about it while we are having lunch. Amelia, I insist you join us. Come now boys." With a brief nod to Albus Dumbledore and Samuel McMillan, Seraphina herded the boys out of the door.

As they left they nearly ran into Mr Weasley who was standing right outside the doors, looking pale and apprehensive. "I sent an owl to Dumbledore as soon as I could. I hope it turned out all right Harry."

"Cleared," Harry said, pulling the door closed behind him, there was no point mentioning that Dumbledore hadn't helped at all, "of all charges!"

Beaming, Mr Weasley seized Harry by the shoulders ignoring the boys flinch, he turned Harry and lead him away an arm still around his shoulders. "Harry that's wonderful! Well, of course, they couldn't have found you guilty, not on the evidence, but even so, I can't pretend I wasn't…" But Mr Weasley broke off, because there waiting at the lifts were Cornelius Fudge and the toad like witch. Fudge acted as though Mr Weasley and Harry were part of the wall, but the witch peered at Harry almost appraisingly. Percy was waiting at the lifts too, clutching a large roll of parchment and a handful of spare quills, his back rigid and his nose in the air.

As they entered the lift Harry made sure to stand behind Percy on the opposite side to Mr Weasley. After the doors closed he leaned forwards slightly and whispered, "Congratulations on the new job Percy." Percy ignored him but the tenseness in his shoulders seemed to relax a little bit.

Finally, they exited the lifts and made their way back across the foyer. Harry stopped at the fountain once more and spilled the contents of his money pouch into its depths, with a quick 'thanks'.

"Why on earth did you do that Harry?" asked Mr Weasley in horror, as the ripples the coins had caused faded away. There had to be at least five Galleons there!

"When we passed by the fountain on the way in, I asked for Magic blessings on the trial," Harry explained calmly. "I don't think it would have been possible for her to bless it any more than she did, unless maybe Sirius had gotten cleared as well, which would perhaps have been a touch unrealistic an expectation. There isn't much I can do to pay her back, so this, is my way of saying thank you."

"But Harry, Magic isn't a being! When we talk about Lady Magic it's a concept, it's not real!" Arthur was beginning to wonder if the boy was actually a little unstable, he would definitely have to mention it to Molly. There had to be something they could do, maybe a healer who focused on the mind. Now that he thought about it, that might help Sirius too, though he seemed to be doing a little better of late.

"Either way," Harry said, not wanting to argue in the middle of the ministry. "This is a thank you for her blessing. Regardless of whether she exists as anthropomorphic personification or not, it's also providing support to St Mungos and you have to agree that is a worthy cause!"

And there was nothing Arthur could say in response to that. He let it go with a sigh, the boy had always been generous with what little he had, never failing to offer compensation for food when he had stayed with them.

"Right," he cleared his throat. "Now I know you are going with…." he nodded towards Madame Picquery.

"Aunt Sera," supplied Percival helpfully.

"Y..Yes, your Aunt," Arthur nodded. "But you need to ensure that you are home in time for tea, or I'll never hear the end of it."

"We will Mr Weasley," Harry promised cheerfully, and they waved him goodbye as they stepped into the floo.

Plates of sandwiches and fruit were already laid out on the table when they arrived in the lounge room of Sera's flat, but they were ignored as the four got themselves settled.

"Now boys, go and change into something more comfortable," Picquery ordered. "Amelia, remove your outer robe and come and have some tea. You'll want it, this is going to be a rather disturbing conversation."

"Well, I certainly feel unsettled now that you've started it off that way 'Phina!" Amelia commented drily, hanging her robe on a hook beside the floo.

"I don't even know where to begin," Seraphina mused as she lead her friend over to the couch. "Just realise this Voldemort fellow of yours, has dabbled in things that should have been left alone."

"Yes, well we knew that during his last attempt to take over Magical Britain," Amelia huffed.

"Perhaps we shouldn't be calling him Voldemort!" Harry said softly as he re-entered the room, settling in an arm chair opposite the couch. He was wearing a soft knitted burgundy sweater that he had borrowed from Percival but had decided not to change out of his dress pants.

"I'm sure Dumbledore's already told you that fear of the name increases the fear of the thing itself," Amelia raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, but he didn't tell me that it was entirely possible that the name had a Taboo on it during the last war. Now that he has been returned to a body, there is every chance that he will do the same again." Amelia's skin turned grey. "However, his real name's Tom Riddle. With Tom being such a common name, I can't imagine he'd bother to put a Taboo on that."

"Tom Riddle, are you sure?" Madame Bones asked curiously. She had over heard her niece, Susan, gossiping about the things that Harry Potter had been up to at school. Perhaps this would shed light on some of the rumours. "How do you know?"

By now Percival had also rejoined the group and sat it in the arm chair next to Harry's. "It all start in my second year. You see Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy got into a fight outside of Flourish and Blotts when we were buying our books."

"Yes I heard about that," Amelia nodded.

"Yeah it was the day that Lockhart was there signing books, so I think it made the Prophet. In the kerfuffle Mr Malfoy slipped an extra book, a diary, into Ginny Weasley's cauldron. Now I don't want Ginny to get in trouble but, she did something that she should have known not to do. In her defence, that wasn't a very good year for her. She was away from home for the first time in a strange place, so she started writing in that diary. When the book started writing back instead of talking to one of her brothers, or to her parents, she kept writing in it. Susan may have told you that strange things were happening at Hogwarts that year. The caretaker's cat, a ghost and students all got petrified."

Harry raised his eyes from where they had been focussed on the coffee table in front of him to look at Madame Bones. She nodded, "Unfortunately she didn't tell me until after the year was over, otherwise I would have come to the school myself to invesigate. She disappointed me that year Harry." Harry's eyes widened in surprise as Madame Bones continued. "I over heard her and her friend Hannah talking about what had gone on and that you had been involved. The mentioned something about you being the Heir of Slythering." Amelia gave a dry laugh. "I told them they were ridiculous, that it was much more likely that you were the Heir of Gryffindor with your Potter and Peverell roots! They were supposed to apologise for the way they treated you, but looking at your expression now I can see that they haven't. I am sorry," she frowned.

He continued his tale with a shrug, dismissing the apology, "It was a mystery. At some point she became scared of what the book was telling her and the gaps in her memory after she had been writing in it. She threw it away and I found it. Not knowing any better I wrote in it too. It had belonged to a boy called Tom Riddle, he showed me the events that led to Hagrid getting expelled. A muggleborn student called Muggle Warren had been killed at Hogwarts fifty years ago, when Dumbledore was a transfiguration teacher. He implied that Hagrid was the cause of that death and the strange happenings. However, before I could find out more, someone stole the book from me. Not long after that Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets. We figured out where that was and went to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He tried to obliviate us, so we took him with us at wand point."

"Us?"

"Me and Ron Weasley. There was an accident down in the chamber, and we got separated so I went on alone. I saw Tom Riddle who had somehow gotten a body. He told me he was using the diary to draw the life out of Ginny to create a new one for himself. Eventually I destroyed the diary and we all emerged from the chambers a little battered but alive."

"The diary was draining her energy?" Amelia frowned. "There are a few dark objects that can do that but only one that I know of that could channel that force into a new body. The bastard created a horcrux." She gasped in realisation, "and if he has now created a new body then he must have created more than one!"

It was somewhat of a revelation for Harry, to have an adult with no other obligations, listen to him and believe what he said. Picquery had done it but that had been through her trust in Percival rather than in Harry himself. Healer Addison and Samuel McMillan were both being paid by Harry and so were obligated to, in the very least, act like they believed him regardless of their actual opinions. McGonagall had fobbed him off when he had bought the issue of the Philosopher's Stone to her in first year. And Dumbledore? Well the less said about him the better. So it was nice to have Madame Bones, listen to him.

Amelia herself was at a loss. It had been clear throughout the trial that Fudge did not want to believe that Harry was telling the truth and he was going to do his utmost to discredit him, hopefully Harry's lawyer would help contend with that.

"I think at least in the short term, it would be best if we kept this to ourselves," she murmured, Harry's heart sank. Seeing his expression, she added, "It isn't that I don't believe you, however there are a couple of matters we will have to contend with. The first being Fudge, I will have to work behind his back and that will be easier if he doesn't suspect I am up to anything. The second is that at this point in time we don't know which of his old supporters have returned to him. Finding his Horcruxes is going to take a lot of research, and that will be easier done if we aren't being waylaid by his Death Eaters."

"I can give you a list of everyone who was there the night that he returned," Harry offered quietly.

"Good," Amelia nodded. "Though we must assume that there are other, lesser Death Eaters who weren't there, or people who have joined since. The quieter we keep this the better."

"Um, someone else already knows," Harry admitted.

"Who?"

"Healer Addison, you see we already know where one of the others is," Harry lifted his fringe to reveal his scar. "But he has sworn an oath not to reveal the information to anyone."

"Oh Harry," Amelia shut her eyes, she could not imagine what it felt like to be this boy. The boy who had saved them once already and now had such a heavy burden to bear.

"Healer Addison is doing some research, we'll see him the day after tomorrow to see if he discovered anything. He thinks there is a way of removing it from me so that it can be destroyed," Harry added trying to reassure her.

"If you send me the time Phina, I'll try to be here. Now," she leaned forwards resting her chin on the tips of her steepled fingers. "What can you tell me about Sirius Black?"


	8. Chapter 8

The sombre mood that had descended during the afternoon was broken when the pair arrived back at Grimmauld place. It was nearly impossible for Harry to contain his excitement in the face of the reception he received when they spun out of the floo into the kitchen. Apparently, Arthur had been busy at work and hadn't had time to send word earlier, so everyone who had been staying at the town house was gathered in the kitchen anxiously waiting for Harry's return.

"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air exuberantly. "You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione who had looked positively faint with anxiety when Harry had entered the kitchen and was now holding a shaking hand over her eyes. "There was no case against against you, none at all."

It was quite the turnaround from the last few days of glares. Harry wondered for a moment if it would last, then he saw the sly sideways glance she was giving him, and he suppressed a groan behind his grin.

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though considering you all knew I'd get off," he said rather cheekily.

Mrs Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, while Fred, George and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went: 'He got off, he got off, he got off!'

"That's enough! Settle down!" shouted Mr Weasley who had arrived in the midst of the pandemonium.

"Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry, waiting for Fudge when we got out of the lifts after Harry's trial."

"What?" said Sirius sharply.

"He got off, he got off, he got off…"

"Be quiet you three! Yes, I saw him talking to Fudge on level nine. Then they went into Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know. If the Minister is meeting known Death Eaters alone, there is the possibility he is under the imperius!"

"Absolutely," said Sirius, "we'll tell him if you're not here, don't worry."

"Well I'd better go wash up, I've spent all day dealing with a vomiting toilet at Bethnal Green! And I have to head back later so I can cover for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner –" he disappeared up the stairs.

"He got off, he got off, he got off…"

"That's enough – Fred – George – Ginny!" said Mrs Weasley, "Harry, dear, come and sit down, have some tea, you hardly ate breakfast."

Ron and Hermione sat themselves down opposite him. Ron looking happier than he had done since Harry had first arrived at Grimmauld place, and Harry's giddy feeling of relief, which had subsided somewhat at Mr Weasleys mention of Lucius Malfoy and the Minister, swelled again.

"So, Mr Whatsit? Your lawyer, was a big help then?" Ron asked as he chewed a mouth full of bread.

Harry nodded and swallowed before answering, "He was good! Even went and saw my Aunt to get permission for me to take veritaserum. Me lying seemed to be their biggest concern. He's also going to be talking to the Prophet and the Minister about the things they've been saying about me. He called Fudge…."

"That's the Minister Harry!" Hermione interrupted leaning across the table to slap his arm.

Green eyes flicked her way for a moment, taking in her supercilious demeanour, before they returned to the red-head, "out on calling me crazy, right in the court room!"

"That's so rude! Harry you need…."

"Well, I suppose it was a good thing that he was there, but I do think you should have left it to Dumbledore," Mrs Weasley commented. "You could have saved that money, Harry."

"Yeah well, as my family has been paying his firm for years, you could say I was just getting some use out of the money that's already been spent. Besides Dumbledore didn't even show up until the trial was over and they were giving out the verdict!" Harry snorted.

"It's Professor Dumbledore, Harry!" scolded Hermione, slapping him again. Seriously if she had been a guy he would have considered hitting her back.

"Thanks Hermione, I didn't realise we were at Hogwarts!" Harry looked around as if examining the room. "Oh, hang on that's because we're not!" he ended sarcastically.

Percival and Sirius snorted while the twins snickered. Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest with a huff.

"Really Harry, you should show some respect for the Headmaster," Mrs Weasley huffed.

"But I do, Mrs Weasley," Harry looked at her with wide green eyes, the very epitome of innocence. "I am sure that he is an excellent Headmaster. Just as I am sure that he treats all students the same. For example, he calls me Harry, and yet he calls you what exactly Ron?"

"'E calls me Mr Weasley," Ron supplied helpfully around another mouthful of food.

"Exactly…. Mr Weasley. He calls me into his office for meetings that are unrelated to my schoolwork, which I am sure he does with all of your children as well?" Harry looked around the group, Mr Weasley was now frowning. Surely the twins had been called into the Headmasters office for their antics!

"See," Harry waved a hand towards Hermione, the only one who hadn't shaken their head. "Hermione also has meetings alone with the Headmaster without any other teachers present."

"I am sure," Mrs Weasley said primly. "That the Headmaster ensures that Hermione's Head of House is present for any meetings." Hermione looked at the table, redness staining her cheeks.

"Yes, I will admit that sometimes he has the Head of Slytherin present for our meetings. Though I'm not sure why? Even though with me he discusses things like where I will be spending the summer, I am sure he only discusses your schoolwork right Hermione?" Harry wheedled, genuinely curious now. Harry was certain from the look on his face that Ron had never been called into the Headmaster's office at all. Perhaps the meetings were how they had covered up her access to the Potter library? Hermione's cheeks turned darker.

"Of course, he does!" Mrs Weasley sniffed dismissively. "There's no other reason for the Headmaster to be calling a young girl into his office."

"Or a young boy! I don't think gender matters who he has invited for a private meeting the rules are the same?" Sirius asked dubiously, looking at Hermione. "Regardless of what it is about, there should be another adult present!"

"Harry," Percival said quietly, while the others were distracted. "If the Headmaster Dumbledore ever calls you for a meeting, you can ask your Head of House to go with you and he can't turn you down. It's in the school rules."

"Are you kidding she's never listened to me before!" Harry snorted.

"One of the others could go to," Percival suggested, Harry shrugged. He doubted Sprout would stand by him after the way she treated him when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Maybe Flitwick would?

"You can also request your guardian be present," Sirius said from Harry's other side. "And don't think that I haven't noticed that you've been ignoring me since you got back," he added quietly as he elbowed his Godson in the ribs.

Harry couldn't help the grin that slid across his face, he bent closer and whispered, "Something else happened, but I want to tell you where no-one else can hear."

Sirius eyed him curiously, "In the library when we've finished here then." Harry nodded and avoided further conversation by filling his mouth with food.

An hour later Harry was lying flat on his back on the rug in the middle of the floor in front of the fireplace that had appeared in the library. His hands were resting on his abdomen, as he took slow deep breaths. Finally, he had reached a point where he was able to focus on one thought to the exclusion of all others and could locate his core, as he had done at Gringotts, in moments. Initially Percival had tried to get him to not think of anything, to empty his mind. That had failed spectacularly. Percival had not been surprised, apparently it was quite common, especially in teenagers, who had all sorts of thoughts, uncontrolled emotions and hormones floating around. Now though, he concentrated on that feeling of freedom he got when he was flying. Now that, he could focus on for hours!

They had moved on to trying to develop some sort of protection, because while the flying was a great deflection technique, it had managed to prevent Percival from finding any memories, it did rely on Harry knowing that someone was trying to perform legilimency on him. Which a skilled legilimens was not going to do. Building a wall, or a building had failed, and Harry was in the process of trying to figure out why. First, he had to calm his mind, to settle all the errant thoughts of the day. On days like today there were a lot!

With a slow exhalation he focused deeper. Why did the walls he build fall down? What did it take to build a strong wall? Surely just brick or stone. He had tried fancier materials too, like titanium and steel, nothing seemed to work. Percival just knocked them over or dug under them. Hmmm, maybe what he was missing was a foundation? They just sort of sat on the ground that made up his mental construct, so perhaps he should dig into it, then start building, then cover up the base, then maybe some sort of support or strut?

"Harry?"

Green eyes popped open as Harry was pulled abruptly back into the present.

"You know you're not supposed to be sleeping, hey?" Percival poked the other boy in the ribs, encouraging him to sit up.

"I was meditating!"

"You've got some drool," Percival pointed at the corner of Harry's mouth. "Right there. Did you know?"

Harry hurriedly swiped a hand across his mouth only to find it dry. Sitting up quickly he grabbed hold of Percival arm, and tried to force the taller boy onto the floor. The wrestling match finished, with both boys out of breath and Harry lying across Percival's chest, trying to use his body weight to pin the other boy down.

Sirius cleared his throat, lips twitching, "Uh-hum. I can see you boys are _busy_ but Harry you did promise to tell me what happened today."

"And I realised something the other day, about your Occlumency that I need to tell you, plus you promised Ron a game of chess," Percival added. "Remind me to tell you so I don't forget."

A blushing Harry pushed himself off his friend and made his way over to sit next to Sirius on the lounge.

"You already know that Amelia Bones was there right?" Sirius nodded. "Well McMillan managed to get them to give me veritaserum. This woman sitting near the Minister said," and here Harry put on a nasal whine. "Surely you can't mean to say that two Ministry Dementors were so far from Azkaban, Mr Potter? All dementors are under the Ministry's control. Surely you aren't implying that someone at the Ministry ordered such a thing? I mean why would anyone do such a thing?"

"That's a terrible impression of Madame Umbridge!" Percival chided, poking his leg with a toe from where he was now lying on the rug.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued, "So even though it was really a rhetorical question I was able to answer it. I said that someone wanted to keep me quiet. Which made Madame Bones ask why. So I answered, mentioning third year and the end of the tournament. Madame Bones commented that you'd already had a trial and even though it wasn't a question I was able to say that you hadn't, as I was under veritaserum they had to believe me. After that they pretty much went straight to voting but Madame Bones wanted to know more, so she came back to Madame Picquery's." Harry grinned.

"She told you to call her Aunt Sera," Percival threw a cushion at Harry, who caught it and threw it back.

"Sorry Aunt Sera's. While we were there Madame Bones asked me to tell her everything. To cut a long story short, she's going to get a team together to investigate your lack of trial and whether you're guilty or not. Though she agrees that because you're my Godfather that Magic would have taken action if you were actually guilty." His grin grew wider as Sirius shook his head in disbelief.

"Harry," the man whispered almost reverentially. "Thank you."

"She thinks she'll have some sort of result in about a month. Because it's already been raised under veritaserum, if the evidence supports you, they will have to give you a trial. I've sent an owl to McMillan and he's agreed he'll represent you, as long as you're happy with that."

Sirius nodded and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, bringing him into a close hug. Harry didn't comment on the tear that made its way down the man's cheek.

"Now you had better go and let Ron defeat you at chess!" Percival walked passed the couch and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Oi!" Harry tried to swat his hands away but was too slow.

"Oh, Harry," Harry turned back, at the hesitant sound of Sirius' voice. "Remus' relationship with you came up, during the Order meeting the other night. I expect he'll want to talk to you about it at some point."

Harry frowned, "He had all of third year to talk, then he could have written!"

Sirius stood and placed his hands-on Harry's shoulders, looking the boy in the eye, "I know. I also know that Remus has the lowest self-esteem of anyone anywhere, and he holds the Headmaster in very high regard, because he allowed him to go to Hogwarts. Make no mistake," he continued as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "That doesn't mean he did the right thing. I think a lot of people have taken Albus' word about you, without bothering to look any further and that has hurt you deeply. I will not follow him blindly any longer. I …I just wanted you to know that it had come up. You have missed out on so many of the things that your parents wanted for you," Sirius shook his head. "The way things have turned out is not your fault and I am more than a little miffed that he didn't make the effort to get to know you. But if nothing else he will be able to tell you more about your Mum and I don't want you to miss out on that."

Harry nodded with a small smile and left.

"I'm glad you've woken up and started thinking," Percival said as he walked passed Sirius to the door.

Sirius watched the dark-haired boy leave, before falling onto the couch with a groan.

Harry was again lying on the couch in the ex-President's apartment. Unfortunately between the new leads on Tom Riddle and investigating Sirius' case, work at the DMLE had kept Madame Bones from being present. Healer Addison had finished examining Sirius and had been mildly pleased with his mental state and the fact that Sirius was now able to acknowledge how bad he had been. His physical condition was on par with Harry's though, so he was also placed on a potions regime. They had also both been warned that once their bodies had recovered enough they would be put on an exercise program as well.

Sirius rubbed a hand across his face with a sigh, "It looks like I am going to have to apologise to Severus."

"I don't know, I think you've both been as bad as each other," Harry stated wryly.

"Mmm," Sirius agreed. "If I'm honest, he has every right to be angry at me. We did not like each other at school. Don't get me wrong, he and his little band of Death Eaters were just as bad as we were."

"But," Harry looked shocked. "That means you were as bad as they were!"

"Mmmhmm," Sirius nodded, slightly relieved he hadn't needed to spell it out for Harry. "And more than a few times we took it all a bit too far. We were arses, jumped up on our own self-importance. Your mother was best friends with Severus up until our fifth year and we, your Dad, Rems and myself, were involved in the incident that led to them falling out. They'd been arguing for a while, over his involvement with the Death Eaters, not that we knew they were called that then. But there was event at the end of our exams that was the final straw."

"But, if Dad was such a horrid person why would Mum go out with him?" Harry asked with a frown.

"It was two years later and he grew up," Sirius replied simply. "That event and another early the next year made him really think."

"What was the other event?"

"Ah," Sirius coughed. "I had kind of hoped you wouldn't ask. I tricked Severus into going down to the shrieking shack on a full moon." He said it really fast.

"You what?" Harry jumped to his feet.

"I know," Sirius raised a hand in supplication. "In my defence I believed, and still do, that he already knew that Remus was a werewolf and was down there. He had bragged to me that he was the one responsible for taking my brother Regulus to meet V…. Tom Riddle. I was so angry," Sirius dropped his head into his hands. "My baby brother, I had protected him his whole life, I took every punishment for him that I could, until I ran away from home, well I was kicked out really." Sirius shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "I honestly thought that Snape wouldn't be stupid enough to go. He had been spouting off for months how he knew what Remus was up to on the full moon. I didn't stop to think how it would affect Remus. I believe that's the reason why he never stood up for me when I was sent to Azkaban. On some level he believed I was capable of selling out a friend."

Harry slumped back onto the couch, "What happened?"

"Well, your father got wind of it. We were already down in the shack when I mentioned it to him, saying that Snape would have to be stupid to come down the tunnel. Remus was beginning to turn, when we noticed that the whomping willow wasn't moving. James ordered me to stop Remus leaving the room while he ran back up the tunnel to stop Severus. They didn't speak to me for months after that. I was pulled off the Quidditch team and suspended for a month, when Dumbledore found out. Of course I told him the whole story and he promised to help Regulus." Sirius shook his head again with a snort, "Something that he never did, another empty promise of his, I suppose I shouldn't be too harsh, he did prevent Remus' secret from getting out. That was about the time that I became friends with your Mum. When the others were giving me the silent treatment she started talking to me. I think she felt sorry for me. She confirmed that Severus had thought Remus was a werewolf back in fourth year. Your Dad changed a lot after that, he became much more responsible for one thing and stopped with the arrogance. Once he knew that Severus had already known about Remus, he started speaking to me again."

"With all that history, why are you going to try and talk to him?" Harry asked softly.

"Well that is actually simple Harry. I am going to apologise to him, for you. You need these potions, Severus can make sure that you get them while you're at school. He already offered to check them once he heard that you had been living with Petunia."

"Oh," Harry was somewhat humbled that someone would do something like that just for him.

"I'm hoping to ask him to make them for you. He might be a cranky bastard but he can certainly brew."

"I'm sure the ones from the shop are just fine. You don't have to do it if you don't want to, he probably won't anyway. He hates me."

"You are my Godson, and I love you Harry. Facing my demons may be difficult, but it's worth it to help you."

"Good," Healer Addison said, moving over to the pair. "He is going to need someone on his side. Now Harry, we were talking last time about your scar." His solemn tone was the first sign Sirius had that something was wrong.

Harry nodded and chewed his lip anxiously, which was the second sign.

"I did some investigating and taking into consideration your memories of that night and the incident with the diary in your second year, I can confirm we were correct. Tom Riddle has made horcruxes," Sirius hissed, that was the third sign. "And given that he has managed to create a new body, it is clear that these weren't the only ones."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Sirius said frantically, trying to catch up with the conversation. "Weren't the only ones? But you only mentioned the diary, right?"

Addison shook his head solemnly, "Sirius, there is a part of Tom Riddle's soul imbedded in the scar on your Godson's forehead."

"No!" Sirius gasped out.

"Perhaps a calming draught?" Seraphina suggested.

Healer Addison summoned one from his bag and removed the cork before handing the phial to Sirius, who downed the liquid in one gulp. It took several seconds before it took effect.

"Now if I can continue. I don't believe that he meant to create the one in your scar. I am unsure whether his soul was so unstable by that point, that the spell rebounding from your Mother's protection caused it to break off, or if he had prepared for the ritual to create a new one before going to your parents' house so that the piece was already partially separated, and the magic of your Mother's protections bound it to you or perhaps as your soul was the only complete one in the room it acted as a lodestone and drew the fractured piece to you. In the end it doesn't matter which it was, what we need to discover is what can be done to be rid of it and the others."

"There are others?" Percival asked.

"Indubitably. The piece in Harry is infinitesimally small. The piece that has remained to create the new body must have been equally small at the time of the ritual. It is why he has lost most of his human appearance."

Harry paled and swallowed.

"Harry?" Percival asked quietly.

"I think he created another one."

"What! Why?"

"Those dreams that I have. Do you remember Sirius I wrote you, last year? He was in that house and he killed that old man." Harry turned horrified eyes to the Healer.

"Did he have a proper body at that time?" Harry shook his head. "That's good then. He wouldn't have been able to create a new horcrux without one. The homunculus would have been ripped apart due to the stress of the ritual. So, no Harry, he couldn't have created one then. Though you raise an important point, he has a new body now, so potentially he could create more. Though I would think that the number would be restricted, at some point the soul must get too small to tear anymore pieces away and leave a still functioning being."

Harry wasn't sure if he should be relieved or horrified by the healer's response.

"So how do we get rid of it then?" Seraphina asked.

"You must understand that most of the documents related to such things have been destroyed over time, making the research difficult and time consuming. I will need assistance and someone else will need to research what objects he might have used to store this soul pieces and how many there could be. So far, I have discovered that usually the piece of soul is placed into a non-living container. Meaning that destroying the receptacle beyond repair will destroy the soul piece contained within." Four pairs of horrified eyes stared at the healer, who clucked his tongue at them indignantly. "Not that I am suggesting that we do that. I am in the business of saving lives not taking them, but you need to know this to be able to destroy the others. If they still exist so will Tom. I need to do some more research into removing one from a living vessel. If we can, we might be able to place it in a container of our choosing and thus be able to create a way of using it to locate the others."

Sirius tried to speak around the lump in his throat, eventually he managed it, "What have you found so far?"

"Not a great deal, unfortunately. There is however a number of references to a ritual that will evict a soul piece, usually in the case of possession but I haven't found the ritual itself yet."

"I'll look in the Black library, though that could take time," he mused. "Hermione likes the library, maybe I could get her to look?" he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Don't you dare tell…" Harry started before looking at Sirius' face and realising he was only joking to try and break up the tension. "Sod off Padfoot!" He reached out and tried to push Sirius over.

"How did you discover it?" Sirius asked the Healer, there was a slight edge of suspicion in his voice as if he had just thought of something distasteful.

"I simply did an in-depth diagnostic scan. It is commonly used on anyone who is unconscious because it reveals their name, age and any injury that has occurred to them in their lifetime."

"What is it Sirius?" Harry asked at the Animagus' scowl.

"How is it that the world knew the next morning that you had survived the killing curse? When I saw you that night, your forehead was all swollen and bloody. There was no way to see what shape the cut would take. I thought you had been hit when the roof caved in. You were only fifteen months old. So, while you were speaking a little there is no way you could have told anyone what happened."

"What about Legilimency?"

"It doesn't really work on children under the age of five," Healer Addison responded. "Babies and toddlers don't really think the same way as adults do. Their memories are more made up of the emotions that are present, rather than an internal dialogue. I imagine if someone had tried it on you at the time, all they would only have felt something along the lines of fear, pain and tiredness."

"The only way anyone could have known, is if someone had performed that spell. Is it a spell just anyone can do?"

Addison shook his head, "It is only taught as part of the training to become a healer. There are strict vows that must be taken with regards to its use due to the issues around patient confidentiality."

"So, who would I have been taken to that night?"

"Hagrid had you," Sirius rasped out. "He had pulled you out of the house before I got there. He let me hug you briefly before saying he was under orders. I gave him my bike so that he could take you to Dumbledore while I hunted the rat."

"Madame Pomphrey would know the spell, he must have taken me to Hogwarts. So, Dumbledore must have known this whole time!"

"That raises an interesting issue," Addison mused. "Of why Madame Pomfrey has not been looking for a solution. The oaths the healers take would compel her to."

"Knowing how she is with her patients, I assume that she has been obliviated. Which is a problem for another time. As much as I want to hex Dumbledore even more now, it won't help us find a solution. Are there any books I should be looking for?" Sirius asked.

Addison shook his head, "Not specifically. But anything on soul magic, possibly blood magic, or healing. Possessions are a good place to start, though you are looking for rituals that will remove the extra soul and store it, not just banish it. We don't want there to be even a hint that the bond is gone until we are ready. With him now sharing Harry's blood there is a chance he could use it to forge another possession. Speaking of blood, you'll be glad to note that your blood was free from potions, but there were a couple of unusual results that I want to speak to you about next time. Nothing that seems to be harming you for the moment. Well, I will leave you with that for now. I want to review you one last time before you head to school Harry. I'll make arrangements with Sera, shall I?"

Harry nodded, "Thanks for your help."

With a nod Addison disappeared through the floo.

"Shite!" the Animagus swore. "How am I supposed to find anything in here?" Sirius had barely left the library and parlour in the two days since they had returned form Picquery's. He desperately wanted to find a solution to the Horcrux problem. He knew he'd need to leave soon, his bladder was beginning to become a problem. Perhaps if he talked to Kreacher they could set up a water closet or an ensuite in here. Then he wouldn't even have to leave to shower. Perhaps a stretcher, then he wouldn't have to leave at all. The library did have a penchant for adding various bits and pieces every once in a while, like the fire place and the wing backed chairs, maybe it would add something. He scratched his head, in irritability, every moment outside was a moment he wasn't looking for a solution, with that he turned the page on the tome in his lap.

"Sirius!" Remus stuck his head into the parlour.

"Hmm," Sirius called, not looking up from the book he had open on his knee.

"There's an order meeting starting in ten minutes. You'd best come. What on earth has gotten into you?! You never even read this much when we were studying for our NEWTS. In fact, the only other time I have seen you like this was just after Lily told us she was pregnant." He turned wide eyes on his friend. "Sirius?"

"What," Sirius looked up now. "No, I haven't gotten anyone pregnant!" he scoffed indignantly. "I haven't even left the house. To be honest I'm not even sure that all that works anymore, I'll have to ask a healer as soon as one of the Order ones is willing to look at me. If you must know I wanted to know a bit more about the potions that Harry is taking." Sirius lied. "Is Snape in tonight?"

"Yeah, he should be through any minute."

Sirius marked his place in the book and banished it back into the library.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Just trying to be a bit more responsible. It would only disappear itself if I left it out. Besides I don't think the kids should have access to medical books do you. They might not be dark, but some of the pictures!" He shuddered.

"Pictures?"

"Yeah, descriptive for ailments or conditions like the werewolf transformation. Even having seen it in real life I didn't need to see those pictures!"

"Oh!"

"Have you spoken to Harry yet?" Sirius asked knowing that the other man hadn't. The longer it went on the less likely Harry was to want anything to do with the man.

"No. Dumbledore said not to worry. That Harry would come round." Sirius' face blanked. "What? You don't think he will?"

"I don't think Dumbledore would know or care," Sirius replied flatly. He really wanted to slap some sense into Remus at time. Sure Dumbledore had let Remus go to Hogwarts, but had he followed it up? No! To his knowledge Remus was still the only werewolf to ever have gone. Did no-one else find it odd?

"But of course, he does. He has always had Harry's best interest at heart."

"You think sending him to be abused, was in his best interest," Sirius hissed.

"Dumbledore said, he was exaggerating." Remus defended.

"Do you remember sixth year?" Sirius said almost conversationally, and Remus was surprised by the sudden change in topic.

"Yes."

"Well then, you will remember that because you, James and the rat, were giving me the cold shoulder, and rightly so, I took up a new friendship." Remus nodded. "You might also remember the night that you found Lily and I at the top of the astronomy tower. How you accused be of hitting on my best mate's girl. Despite the fact that neither of you had talked to me for six months and Lily was a mess from crying. What you never knew was that she was crying because that was the first night back after the holidays and her sister had made her life miserable for the week she was home. Including trying to run her over in a car. Lily had to apparate to safety and got a warning from the ministry for it. Dumbledore sent Harry to live with that woman. I have had a healer see Harry, and the list of injuries inflicted on him, and I don't mean things like he stubbed his toe, is longer than Moody's!"

Sirius glared at the werewolf, who stuttered, "But he said!"

"He wouldn't know, he never checked! He doesn't care about Harry! He cares about his pawn in the game he is playing with Tom Riddle!" Sirius growled.

Remus backed away from Sirius as his magic flared.

"What harm would it do to talk to Harry? You say he is your cub, part of your pack, but how exactly have you shown him? And don't even think about starting the answer with Dumbledore said!" Sirius challenged the werewolf.

Remus' mouth which had begun to open snapped shut.

"Just think about it Remus. Harry needs adults who see him for the fifteen-year-old he is not the weapon that Dumbledore wants him to be." He opened the door and stepped into the hall, "If there is one thing that I wholeheartedly agree with Molly on it's that the kids should have nothing to do with this damn war."

Mrs Weasley opened the door to the kitchen in time to hear that last comment, though she said nothing she nodded at Sirius with a small smile.

The meeting was just as boring as Sirius had anticipated. He ignored the various snide comments about how little he was doing. Vindictively thinking that if they weren't careful, they could find somewhere else to host their stupid bird club. Though if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't do that quite yet. Not until he had been cleared by Amelia and was Harry's undisputed guardian or alternately they had set up an escape plan to get Harry out of the country, something he had discussed in depth with Seraphina Picquery, while Harry had been talking to Healer Addison about his childhood.

Two hours! Two whole hours and what had they covered? The surprising fact that Snape had not been called to attend Tom Riddle yet and setting the weeks roster for monitoring the Department of Mysteries. He waited until the group was breaking up before he spoke.

"Snape!" the spy glared at him. "Could I speak to you a minute. In the parlour." Away from listening ears was implied.

Severus gave a small nod and followed him from the room. They entered the parlour and Sirius waved a hand activating the magic that would prevent anyone else from entering the room or listening in. He paced while he decided the best way to handle the situation. Discarding several options before deciding that while Severus was a Slytherin, but he was a Gryffindor so…..

"Whatever it is you've got to say, just say it!" snapped Snape, after two minutes of watching the other man pace, as impatient as ever. "I don't have all night."

"Of course," Sirius wiped sweaty palms on his robes. "I'm sorry!" Severus raised a single brow though the rest of his face remained blank. "James and I, we were, right little gits." Sirius huffed out a laugh, "Lily was quite right, we were arrogant, bullying toe rags. Harry… he's made me see it. Unsurprisingly he doesn't like bullies."

"If this is some belated attempt at assuaging your conscious, please put it aside. I don't believe you."

Sirius nodded not taking offence, "Yeah, I'm not surprised. But I must say I thought you already knew Remus was a werewolf, so I never thought you'd go. I was so angry at you for taking Regulus to see…. him that I…." Sirius stalled.

Severus remained silent for a long minute, "Yes. That is something I regret," he acknowledged with a nod.

Well, that was a better response than Sirius had expected so he forged ahead. "I also have a favour to ask of you."

Severus pursed his lips, before spitting out derisively, "I should have known better. Don't waste my time with false platitudes in order to manipulate me into giving you what you want! Clearly there was a reason you were in Gryffindor."

"No!" Sirius raised a hand. "That was a sincere apology that was long overdue. I intend to pay you for what I am about to ask you to do."

Severus sneered, "What is it that you want?"

"The potions for Harry. We are both aware that for some reason Dumbledore doesn't want Harry to have them," Sirius glanced at Snape who now looked like he had swallowed a pebble. "You know why! Will you tell me?"

"Regulus was taught Occlumency, I assume this was a family tradition."

Sirius nodded, "Yes, but my barriers were ripped to shreds by Azkaban," he said honestly. "They are improving again, but they are not what they were. They would not stand up to Dumbledore."

Severus raised his brow again at that, "Then it would not be prudent for me to tell you at this time. Though I might be inclined to divulge the information if that situation changes."

"That's fine," Sirius accepted the rejection with far more grace than he would have even a week prior, it was certainly better than an outright refusal. "I was hoping that you would agree to either making Harry's potions, or supervising him making them as detention or something so that he can continue taking them at Hogwarts."

"He has seen a healer?" Snape confirmed.

"Yes, Addison Hedgerow."

"And you?"

"Yes."

"You were given a similar list of potions?" Sirius nodded. "What payment?"

"Oh, you're going to think about! That's good, hang on, just wait there!" Sirius babbled before running into the library. He returned a moment later carrying a thick tome. "I remember, when I moved in with the Potters, Fleamont telling me about this book. He had read a copy of it in his youth and apparently it completely changed the way he made his potions and lead him to be able to develop several new potions."

He passed the book to Severus. _The Formidable World of the Potioneer by Corvus Black. _

"You would give this to me?" Severus' eyes devoured the book.

Sirius shook his head, "I can't. This is the original, so the spells won't allow it to leave the library or parlour. Though I might have lied to Dumbledore, just a little bit, about how the spells work. You can read it as long as you are in this room." He grinned nervously, "But if you tried to take it with you it would return to its shelf as soon as you left the room. I know that I have seen a copying spell that works on the Black library and there is no restriction on the copies. So, I was going to offer you a copy, of this and_ A Treatise in the Exploration of Healing Charms_. You can read them in here until I can locate the book the spell is in."

"This acceptable," Severus held out his hand for the list of potions. "If you happen to find other potions related works of this calibre, I might be willing to make yours as well. You will of course be covering the costs of the ingredients and my time."

"Of course," Sirius had expected no less. Severus left and didn't even slam the door! Sirius sighed in relief, it had gone so much better than he had expected. It took him half a minute to write a quick note to Seraphina, so she could cancel Harry's potions order at the apothecary, and send it through the floo.

For once Percival and Harry were not in the library, they had decided to take the afternoon off, and were in the master bedroom grooming Buckbeak. Ron was seated on the floor, with _A History of Magic_ open, leaned up against a cushion, and a roll of parchment on his knee.

"Hermione hasn't badgered you into finishing yet?" Harry asked with a smile.

Ron huffed, "She has, and I even gave her a copy to edit. This," he waved the sheet of parchment in Harry's direction. "Is the one I'm going to hand in. It's all my own work." He looked a bit sheepish as he continued, "You're my best mate, and it seems like Riddle isn't going to stop coming after you. I can't do anything about that, but I can learn as much as I can so that I'm not holding you back."

An awkward silence followed Harry's quiet, 'thanks'.

"We probably should find somewhere else for Buckbeak to go, it can't be good for him to be stuck in here," Percival said as he watched the Hippogriff eat another ferret.

"Not to mention it might improve things with the House Elf if we cleaned up the room," Ron added without looking up from his work.

"Do you think Aunt Sera might know someone who can help?" Harry asked Percival.

"Maybe," he shrugged. Hedwig arrived the minute after they finished writing the letter on a piece of parchment that they borrowed of Ron. She landed on Harry's shoulder and patiently groomed her wizard's hair. Seriously every time she had just got it sorted to her satisfaction he came along and ran a hand through it. She had a good mind to nip him the next time. As soon as they had finished she flew off out the window with the missive.

After lunch the boys retreated to the Main bedroom once more. Hedwig was already perched on the back of chair, with her head under her wing.

"Hey Hedwig," Harry cooed. She cooed back staying still as he ran a gentle finger over her feathers and cooed at her again.

And didn't Percival think that was just adorable. Ron grinned wickedly when he caught him staring.

"Did Aunt Sera send a reply already?" Hedwig extracted her head and blinked at him, with a chirrup. Then with another coo she lifted her leg displaying the message she carried.

"Thank you," Harry stroked the crest of her head. "Have a rest now, I'll make sure there are some treats out in our room later. Thanks for coming back so fast." Hedwig hooted and her head disappeared again. He was a good wizard, she had trained him well.

_Dearest Percival and Harry,_

_You always have the strangest requests for me. Housing for a Hippogriff? I swear I have never known someone to get into as much trouble as you! Well that is not strictly true. Percival you may remember Porpetina Goldstein? She would have been a junior Auror in the 1920's. She was always getting into trouble. She ended up married to a British fellow by the name of Newton Scamander. He wrote some magizoology text book that all the schools are using these days. I have been in contact with them since my arrival in England and am in fact meeting them for dinner tomorrow evening. I vaguely remember that Newton's Mother used to breed fancy hippogriffs, so I will ask if he knows anyone who may be able to care for the beast._

_Yours_

_Aunt Sera_

"Well Buckbeak, what do you think? Would you like going to see all the fancy hippogriffs at the Scamander's? He's famous you know, he wrote _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._" Harry continued to smooth Buckbeak's feathers while talking.

Two days later a new message came with the reply. Apparently, Newt Scamander would be absolutely delighted to re-home Buckbeak and he had included a portkey to take the hippogriff directly to the farm.

"Here we go Bucky!" Harry gave the hippogriff a last pat. "I guess this is Goodbye. Don't be causing too much trouble with the other Hippogriffs! Did you want to hold the portkey for yourself or do you want it tied on?" Buckbeak reached out and took the portkey in his beak. "Alright then. Freedom!" With a whirl the beast disappeared.

Harry looked around the room and crinkled his nose at the smell, "So Ron, want to learn the banishing charm?"

Forty-five minutes later, Harry stretched his back and looked around. "You would think that sometime in the last month and a half, Sirius would have thought about cleaning up Buckbeak's mess! Aunt Petunia would have thrown a fit at the state of this room."

"To be fair, he was pretty crazy when we got here. I honestly don't think it would have crossed his mind," Ron said. "He's been heaps better since you arrived, he barely calls you the wrong name anymore."

Percival walked behind Harry and ran his hand up the shorter boy's onto his shoulder to give it a squeeze.

"What is halfblood Master doing to Mistresses bower? She would be horrified she would," the oily voice of the resident House Elf asked.

Harry whipped around at the sound, almost running into Percival who had drawn his wand. "Oh, we were cleaning up," he replied seeing it was only the Elf. "It wasn't right for Buckbeak to be kept in here, so we arranged to send him to another home. But he made such a dreadful mess."

"You is cleaning?" Kreacher asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. See so far we have gotten rid of Buckbeak's….um, well you know and all the bones left over from his …dinner. Now we have to cleanse it."

"After that, I think this room is going to need a full purification ritual," Percival stated.

"You is teaching halfblood Master, rituals?" Kreacher's ears lifted at the sides of his head. He had heard of rituals when he was a wee Ellfling, his Mother had talked about them and how they made wizards and witches strong, keeping the magic fresh and alive. She had lamented that over her two hundred and fifty years of life they had fallen out of practice.

"Yes, Kreacher," Percival said solemnly.

"You is fixing Mistresses disappointment?" he turned his baleful eyes on Harry.

"He's much better already but well he will always be Sirius…."

"No!" Kreacher interrupted harshly. He moved close and raised a finger which he waggled at Harry. "You is fixing."

"He's getting better," Harry protested.

"No. Young Master be going away to Hoggywarts and be coming back all different and disappoints. Something be's happening to him there. Pushes little Master away. Fighting with Father."

"Not fighting with his Mother?" Harry asked curiously.

"Young Master and Mistress always fighting." Kreacher shrugged. "Mistress tries to make young Master into thing he's not. Young Master and Father, no fighting. Letters came home from school after the sorting. Only Mistress was disappointed. Old Master, not happy but knows young Master finds own way, always different, always questions, always rushing about."

"Is that why you call him Mistresses disappointment then? Shouldn't you be calling him Master now that he is Lord Black."

Kreacher sniffed then said slyly, "Young Master put frog spawn in the stew, likes pranks. Prank him!"

"Wait so it didn't change till the end of his first year? Do you think someone did something to him?" Harry asked.

Kreacher just shrugged, "Kreacher not there. Kreacher only knowing brother helping brother, then goes to school, then ignores. Listens to Father, then not listens."

"I guess it is possible, but first years are young and impressionable, and they get segregated off into little groups, where everyone else in that group tells them how their lot is the best." Percival rationalised. "Look at Hermione. I wonder what she was like before and after first year. Her family are No-Maj so she wouldn't have been influenced by them into which house was best and look at her now. She didn't argue when Ron said that the entirety of one house was evil. She claims to be intelligent yet didn't acknowledge that where people are concerned there are no absolutes. Even Ron who was raised as a Gryffindor could acknowledge that wasn't right, once it was pointed out to him and all he heard growing up was Gryffindors are good, Slytherins are evil'd."

"So, what he was brain washed?" Harry asked.

"Argh, Harry! That's gross," Ron blanched.

Percival raised a brow at Ron, "He means that due to the recurrent exposure to a particular philosophy, perhaps with reinforcement of some kind, that he has taken on the particular belief, or world view. Such as all Slytherin's are evil."

Meanwhile Harry was frowning, "But…"

"What is it Harry?"

"On the train, Hermione asked us which house we thought we'd be in. She told us that she thought she would be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, but that she thought that Gryffindor sounded like the best house, because it was the one that Dumbledore had been in. I think she said that she read it in '_Hogwarts a History'_. But in there it also mentions that Merlin was in Slytherin, Newt Scamander was in Hufflepuff and Ignatia Wildsmith (the inventor of Floo powder) was in Ravenclaw."

"So back in first year, she already thought that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world."

Ron put his parchment to one side and jiggled his legs a bit to try and get some feeling back after sitting cross-legged for so long, "Don't think I didn't notice that you just confessed to reading that book Harry. We had a deal! But I'll ignore that for a moment," he said with a grin. "You're right though I was too excited to notice at the time, it was strange how much knowledge she had for a Muggleborn."

"How long before the start of the year are first year letters sent out?" Harry asked Ron curiously.

"Generally, unless they're late, like this year, they come out the last week in July," Ron said.

"Remember she told us on the train that she'd memorised all the course books. Did she really memorise eight books in just five weeks?"

"There are people who can memorise something at little more than a glance Harry," Percival commented.

"Yeah, but I know that Hermione can't. She reads every chapter before class, writes out her notes, reviews the chapter with her notes afterwards, then writes out new notes. Which she copies out again before exams. Last year I asked her why she went to all that effort and she told me it was so she could remember it better. And she still needs to find the passage in the text when she is writing out her essays. She spends ages reviewing things. Remember she makes up a study timetable at least ten weeks before exams start. So she definitely doesn't have an eidetic memory. And on top of the eight texts she had also memorised '_Hogwarts a History'_."

"So, she either did nothing but study, for those five weeks, or she had access to the books a lot longer."

"Does it matter?" Percival asked.

"No, I supposed not. It's just that I wonder what else she got told beforehand. It would have been nice if someone had bothered to tell me anything about the magically world and my family before Hogwarts started, so I wasn't blindsided. I mean Hermione already knew who I was….." he shook his head, quashing the rising anger. "You're right we can't change it now, so it doesn't matter. Back to Sirius. How do we find out if something happened to him? He mentioned protecting his brother when they were growing up, so I guess that rules out him being obliviated."

Percival thought for a moment, "He could have been confounded or been given potions some of those would change how you act but you would still remember it as if your did it. To be honest after being in Azkaban for twelve years, any enchantments or compulsions would have broken by now. If he had been obliviated it could have also been broken when the dementors broke through his occlumency shields, but he still retained the anger at his family, so that is also an indication that it was not that. Potions are relatively short lasting, unless they have an alchemical base, so would have worn off years ago. He's also been checked by the healer. Addison would have picked up anything else then. So, he is probably clean now, which is why he is not only listening to our arguments but thinking about them too. I guess we just need to keep an eye on things to ensure it stays that way."

Kreacher who has been listening quietly nodded in satisfaction, "Good. Littlest Master will take care of Mistresses Disappointment." Then he popped out of the room leaving the boys to their cleaning.

Several hours later, both Harry and Ron had well and truly mastered, the syphoning, cleaning and sterilising charms and the room was now spotless. Kreacher had popped back at one point with a tray of freshly baked cookies and three glasses of juice. He also retrieved the white sage and selenite crystals for the purification ritual. They now stood looking at their handiwork.

"So, what do we do with it now?" Ron asked. "Would Sirius really want to stay here, when he has so many bad memories of his Mother?"

"Mmmm," Harry tipped his head to the side thoughtfully. "What if we re-decorated. I'm sure he wouldn't like all the green or the snake decorations but….? Maybe we should ask Kreacher?"

"Littlest Master called." Kreacher popped into the room.

"Would it be alright, if we re-decorated this room so Sirius could move in?"

Kreacher eyed them warily, "Mistresses Disappointment wants the Lord suite?"

"Well, we haven't asked yet, but we just thought if we got it looking more…. masculine, he might."

"Spare furniture in attic," the wizened Elf nodded before popping out.

"Well I guess we'll take that as a yes then," Ron chuckled amusedly. Harry giggled. Which was so endearing that it made Percival grin earning him another look of amusement from Ron.

"Perhaps we should practice shrinking and enlarging charms next then, because there is no way I am carrying that up the stairs," Ron pointed at the large heavy wooden four poster bed, with the yards of heavy drapes.

Pockets full of furniture they traipsed up the stairs to the attic. Pushing open the door they entered the dusty room. Harry pulled the sheet off the top of one of the piles spilling dust into the air and making them all sneeze. They rifled through the stacks and found a less ornate bed with a solid oak headboard, it had matching side tables and even a desk and chair. Everything seemed to be stored at half its original size. A quick cleaning and polishing spell and it was ready to go.

Percival had them practice the colour changing spell on the linen, with Ron insisting on turning everything a vivid red until Harry over-ruled the decision and they settled on a much more calming midnight blue. A few spells later the curtains were repaired and matched the rest of the linen, the floorboards had been polished, and a fresh rug laid over the floors. Even the ensuite had received a make over. It barely resembled the room they had started in.

As they were standing surveying their work there was a knock on the door.

"Act cool," Ron said nervously.

Percival snorted, "We haven't done anything wrong Ron."

Sirius stuck his head through the door, "I just came…" he paused as he took in the room. "What in Merlin's name have you been doing!"

Harry took a shy step forward, "We um, we got in contact with someone who was willing to take Buckbeak. He went this afternoon. Then we didn't want to leave the room in the mess that it was in so we….cleaned up a bit. We thought you…..you might like to use it now." He looked up at Sirius through his fringe.

Again, Percival was struck by how shy and meek Harry could be at times and he could have throttled the Dursley's. Well not so much Petunia now that she seemed to turn over a new leaf, but definitely Vernon.

Sirius stepped fully into room and turned around. "This is amazing, you boys have done so well. Thank you! Kreacher."

"Mistresses Disappointment wants Kreacher?"

"Kreacher could you move my things up here…." Harry cleared his throat, causing Sirius to start, "Wha….Oh yes. Please."

"Master wishes to move into the Lord suite?" Kreacher asked, seemingly stunned.

"Yes," Sirius nodded. He glanced around the room again, with a sigh. "This was Father's furniture. Regulus and I used to play on it in the attic on rainy afternoons before it got too crowded up there and everything need to be shrunk. He would have laughed to see it in use again." Sirius moved over to sit on the bed, slowly running a hand over the freshly polished wood.

"What happened to him? To Regulus?" Harry asked.

Sirius starred at something in the distance and seemed lost for a moment before he replied, "I don't know. He disappeared towards the end of the war. There were a number of rumours that he was doing something for Riddle and either got cold feet or betrayed the man and so was killed." Sirius looked down at his clasp hands. Harry moved to sit next to him on the bed as Ron quietly ducked out of the room, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.

"And nobody ever found out?" Percival asked quietly.

Sirius glanced up, before returning his attention to his hands, "No. Those on the light side didn't care, after all he was the enemy. Those in Azkaban, never said."

"Surely if his death was a punishment, Riddle would have wanted witnesses," Percival said.

There was knock, and they all looked up to see Kreacher standing up away from the chest of drawers. He bent forward at the waist suddenly and rammed his head against the wood.

"Kreacher stop!" Harry cried jumping up and moving towards the Elf. "What are you doing?"

"You know something!" Sirius' voice grew in volume.

"No Sirius! Stop please!" Harry placed a hand in the middle of his Godfathers chest, preventing him from rising.

"He knows what happened, Harry!" Sirius protested.

"He might, but he can't tell us if he was ordered not to," Harry grabbed the Elf by the shoulders. "Don't punish yourself Kreacher!" he pleaded.

Sirius settled himself and looked sternly at the Elf, "Kreacher were you there when my Brother died?"

"Kreacher cannot say, Master!" Kreacher pulled at his ears.

"Why you little…."

"Sirius!" Percival interjected, "he said he cannot say. He's probably been ordered not to."

"Who ordered you?"

"Regulus," the Elf croaked out.

"Is it just Sirius you can't tell? Can you tell me?" Harry asked, trying to think of a way around the problem.

Kreacher was silent.

"Kreacher I want you to answer any question that Percival asks you," Sirius ordered.

"Kreacher," Percival moved to kneel in front of the Elf. "Who did Regulus order you not to tell."

"Kreacher cannot tell the family."

"Ok, were you there when Regulus died?" There was really no gentle way of asking the question, but you didn't become the Director of Magical Security by avoiding asking the difficult questions.

"Yes," Kreacher wept. Harry joined Percival on the floor and gave Elf a quick hug.

"And how did it happen?"

The story emerged, slowly at first then all in a rush, interrupted by hiccups, coughs and tears. The youngest son of Black was asked a favour by the Dark Lord and Kreacher was taken into a dank cave, made to drink an abominable potion and left to be consumed by the grabbing hands that burst from the freezing cold water. Only the love of a favoured son and orders to return had saved Kreacher. The son of Black grew despondent as he nursed the Elf back to health as if something in that task had opened his eyes to the nature of the one he was serving. Regulus began to question everything he had thought to be truth. Late one winters night the young Master called his Elf and demanded a return to the cave. Kreacher wailed and sobbed and tried to deny the boy but he had been given orders, so he went taking his Master with him.

The story became so disrupted by Kreacher's tears that Harry insisted that tea be made, and a rest taken, causing a fresh bout of wailing at how like the young Master, Master Harry was. Eventually the sobs subsided enough for the tale to be continued. Before the pair left Kreacher was ordered that should anything go wrong he was to take the trinket that the Dark Lord had hidden, leave, and destroy it. He was not to tell anyone in the family.

Having already been taken inside Kreacher was able to pop Regulus through the defences and straight to the island at the heart of the cave, where the basin stood that held the potion of despair. He fully expected to be made to drink it once again, so that his Master could retrieve the locket that rested in the bottom. To his shame Kreacher was wrong. Master Regulus drank the potion himself then begged and pleaded as visions of nightmares appeared in his head. But Kreacher, poor Kreacher had to follow the orders he had been given. He left his Master gasping on the shores of the lake.

The Elf sat wrinkled and forlorn, on a footstool that someone had conjured during the tale. Tear tracks marring his face.

"Reggie, by the Gods Reggie!" Sirius sobbed. "Why didn't he come to me."

"And what would you have done?" Percival asked. The astute question sounding harsh in its bluntness.

"I…." Sirius stopped.

"You would have told Dumbledore, thinking that he would have helped. And he would probably have done nothing," Harry said drily.

The Dog Star bowed his head. How things had changed in such a short period of time. Harry had been in the house only a matter of weeks and had opened his eyes to a great many things. He desperately wanted to close his eyes and go back to the way things were when he and James had nothing more to worry about than how James was going to ask Lily Evans out this week. Honestly, he hadn't even felt this way during the height of the last war because he always had James and Remus by his side, and as long as they were together everything would be alright. Now though, now he had a responsibility to his heart brother's boy and so many things were wrong with the world.

"You are…right," he lifted his head and straightened his shoulders. "I had asked him to help Regulus years before and what did he do? Nothing. He would have done nothing again."

Percival turned intent eyes back to Kreacher, "And what happened to the locket? Did you manage to destroy it?"

"Kreacher dids not!" he pulled at his ears, and Harry had to take his hands to make him stop. "I trieds everthing!"

"Is it still here Kreacher? What did you do with it?" Percival asked slightly horrified, who knew what the effects of living for ten years with only a Horcrux for company would be. No wonder the Elf was a little strange,

"Fat Blood traitor takes it and puts in bag of rubbish. But I finds it and takes it."

"Where is it?" Sirius demanded.

"Sirius calm down,"

"Kreacher," Percival spoke authoritatively over the other two. "Go and get it and bring it here, please."

With a pop he disappeared. It was only seconds before he returned a black and silver locket dangling from his grip. The three wizards drew back as the miasma it exuded reached them.

A physically shaking Sirius swallowed the bile that was trying to push its way out of his throat, as a green faced Harry clutched at his forehead. "Percival, you help Harry," Sirius said as he determinedly pulled himself together. "Kreacher, Father had a lead coated iron box that was lined with velvet. Leave the locket here and go and find it. If you are seen, do not tell anyone what you are doing or what it is for."

With a nod Kreacher disappeared once more, as the locket fell onto the carpet.

"What's the matter with him?" Sirius asked Percival quietly, watching his Godson with concerned silver eyes.

"At a guess, I would say that the locket is another horcrux and the one in Harry is reacting to it. But we'll have to check with Addison first," Percival replied. "We really need to find that ritual and soon."

"I've looked through the first ten shelves, because that seems to be where the books are darkest, but apart from a mention of Herpo the Foul, there has been nothing on Horcruxes," Sirius sighed.

"What about muggle methods?" Harry asked from where he was lying on the floor, his head in the Americans lap, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"What do you mean?" Percival, ran his hand through Harrys hair as the younger boy winced again.

"I'm sure I heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon talking once. One of Vernon's clients had a heart attack and a neighbour looked after him until the ambulance got there. They reckoned he had been dead for about three minutes which was lucky, because anymore and he could have had some brain damage. There are drugs, they're a bit like potions, that will stop the heart or start it," Harry swallowed.

"What are you saying Harry?" Sirius asked in a low voice.

"What if they gave me a drug that stopped my heart. They could leave me essentially dead for three minutes and then restart it again, once we know that the horcrux is gone."

"No!" Sirius shot to his feet and began pacing. "No, no, no, no, no. That is a bad idea Harry. Bad!"

"But Sirius just think," Harry sat up with a struggle, pressing a hand hard against his scar.

"No Harry. What if it went wrong? What if they couldn't get you back?" He had stopped beside the boys and dropped to his knees, hands on Harry's shoulders. "I can not lose you too!"

"But Sirius, what about Riddle? Wouldn't it be worse if we can't kill him because there is a horcrux in me? What is the other option that I let him kill me?"

Silver eyes shot wide in horror, "Merlin! By the Gods that's what he meant!"

"What who meant Sirius?" Harry leaned back against Percival's chest.

"Snape. When I asked him about your potions I made an offhand comment about not knowing what reason Albus could possibly have for not wanting your injuries from the Dursleys treated. I could tell by his face that Snape knew. He all but promised to tell me once my occlumency was back to normal. I'd bet my wand that Albus' knows about the horcrux and he is planning to get rid of it by allowing you to die."

Percival was fuming. That Albus Dumbledore dared, that anyone dared, to threaten his….his….(_Your Harry_, the voice in his mind sounded smug this time) Harry. He shook the feeling off and tried to examine the situation objectively. When looked at individually every event in the last fifteen years could be passed over as the decisions of someone who was looking at the bigger picture, but when added together they equalled something greater and far more concerning. Perhaps Dumbledore was not the beacon for light that he claimed he was. It was certainly worth keeping in mind.

"Kreacher found it in the Master's study," the wizened Elf said as he reappeared.

"Excellent, I'll hold it open Kreacher and you place the locket in please. I don't want you boys touching it," Sirius justified as he saw Harry about to offer. There was instant relief the moment the locket was shut inside the box.

"Thank the Gods for that!" Harry sighed in relief, finally able to sit up on his own again.

"If he was close by, I would get Healer Addison to look at that scar again," Percival murmured as he turned Harry's head towards him, so he could have a closer look. Ever so gently he brushed Harry's fringe away from his forehead. The scar was puffy again, and angrily red. "I wonder if we could use the Horcrux in the locket to leech the one out of the scar." He ran his fingers across the line of the scar and down Harry's cheek. Harry was barely breathing, it seemed as if the whole world had just…..stopped as he glanced up into those dark eyes.

"I…um, I'll….I'll just….head back to the library then. Don't mind me," Sirius said quietly, tucking the nondescript box into a pocket. There was protected drawer in the desk in the Parlour that even Moody couldn't see through. He'd leave the locket there for the time being. Sirius turned and looked at the boys a last time before shutting the door gently with a smile on his face.

Harry and Percival never even noticed Sirius' departure.


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius was chuckling to himself as he walked down the stairs.

"You look far too happy with yourself. What have you done?" Remus raised an enquiring eyebrow as the other man entered the kitchen.

"Me!" Sirius responded faking taking offence. Despite everything with Harry, joking around with Remus like they once had was becoming easier. "I have done nothing, apart from leaving Harry and Percival gazing deeply into each other's eyes." he raised the back of his hand to his forehead and pretended to swoon, melodramatically. "Quite frankly it was all getting a bit sickeningly sweet. They didn't even see me leave!"

"You don't think it's strange?" Remus asked curiously.

"Think what's strange?" Sirius asked in return. "Is that tea fresh?" he indicated the teapot sitting on the table in front of the werewolf.

"Just boiled," Remus nodded pushing it across the table. "Don't you think that it's strange how close those boys have become in such a short period of time? The year I was at Hogwarts Harry never seemed to be the type to form close attachments, especially not so fast. He didn't seem to be close to anyone apart from Ron and Hermione. That was one of the reasons I believed Albus when he said that Harry just wanted to be left alone."

"Pft," Sirius snorted, as he prepared his cup. "Why were you even asking Albus if you could write to Harry in the first place?"

"I wasn't," denied Remus. "I was asking for his address so that I could visit! I'd asked before, but I figured that since Harry had met me it was time to…"

"And you let Dumbledore put you off again. You know you really should have just talked to Harry. He's fairly slow on the uptake with some things but I'm quite sure he knows his Aunt's address," Sirius grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and set his cup down joining Remus at the table. Finally, he answered Remus' original query, "I don't think that it's strange at all. Remember Lily and Alice Longbottom, after they got caught up in that Diagon raid. They ended up holed up in front of Fortescue's with only a table between them and six Death Eaters. That and shared pregnancy tales is what made them best friends. The boys are close but, they went through a life-threatening experience together. That tends to bring people closer. Especially when it occurred at the same time, in Harry's eyes at least, that Hermione and Ron were shutting him out. You know we would never have to James regardless if Merlin himself came and told us too."

Sirius took a bite of the apple, savouring its taste, "Hmm, I wonder where Kreacher got these, I'll have to ask him to get some more. Anyway, back to the point. Percival has also been a lot more supportive of Harry, then just about anybody, including Ron and Hermione. Showing him things, guiding him…."

"Yes that!" Remus interrupted. "That's what's bothering me. Harry is allowing this….stranger to guide him. Why didn't he come to you…or me?"

"I don't think you have any right to feel jealous. How exactly would he have ever known that you were willing to give him any sort of guidance?" Sirius starred at his friend.

"I …with the dementors, I taught him the patronus. I helped him then," Remus protested.

"Sure. If you had bothered to follow that up with conversations about his parents, and letters the following year, he would have bonded to you quicker than he can say Expelliarmus, but instead you gave him a year of silence. As for me?" Sirius scoffed, self-depreciatingly. "I wrote, but I can admit now that I was not right in the head. He knew he could come to me for advice, maybe not always wise advice but still. Then, just like everyone else when the chips were down, I did exactly what Dumbledore told me to, and I left him all alone."

"You didn't," Remus denied.

"Yes, I did," Sirius shook his head sadly. "After that wretched tournament when he had just been tortured and seen a school mate murdered in front of him. I left him lying in that hospital bed, to go 'round up the old gang' just as I was instructed to, Remus. When that boy needed me, I left! That makes twice. I won't be making that mistake again." Sirius pushed back and stood up abruptly and tossed the apple core in the bin. "I can't blame him for going to Percival for guidance, Merlin knows he hasn't gotten it anywhere else." He turned and went to stalk out of the room.

"Wait," Remus called out. "But what about the looking into each other's eyes bit?" he asked. "I though Harry liked…well Ginny or at least girls in general."

A smirk arced across Sirius' face, "He's allowed to like both Remus. I would have thought after that incident in sixth year with Doc Dearborn that you would have realised that by now."

"You promised never to mention that again!" the werewolf protested, cheeks pink. "And yes, I do know that, but he's never showed any interest in boys before. Molly assured me that he'd shown interest in…."

"Remus," the blonde was interrupted. "You really need to start making your own observations. Let's ignore the fact that the boy is, may the Gods bless him, exceedingly oblivious for the moment. Has Harry really had any time to have any sort of romantic interactions with …well anyone? Sounds like his school years so far have been hectic. In his letters last year he mentioned a…." his eyes closed for a moment as he tried to recall the name. "a Cho Chang? But that seemed to die off after the Yule ball. Like you said he hasn't really formed any close attachments outside of Ron and Hermione. He's just turned fifteen. He probably isn't quite sure what he wants yet but give him time and he'll figure it out for himself."

"So what, you're happy for him to start experimenting with a stranger?" Remus asked incredulously.

"Well you did! Why should Harry be any different?" An elegant black brow arched in challenge.

Leaving the blustering blonde behind Sirius made his way to the library, through the parlour and passed a quietly reading potions master, who he greeted with a nod. He thought to himself that it was amusing, and somewhat hypocritical, that Remus was so tied up in knots over Harry's potential romantic liaisons. When in reality the boys had probably, stared into each others eyes for a moment and then when the moment had passed, ended up awkwardly blushing and trying not to look at each other for an hour.

Two hours later, Sirius had made no further headway in finding a ritual to help rid Harry of the Horcrux. He had discovered another potions text and the duplication spell, so the time hadn't been a complete waste. Despite giving Snape his own copies of the books the minute he had found the spell, the man was still seated in the Parlour happily reading. It was very odd! Though as he said, it was a lot warmer and more comfortable in the magically restored Grimmauld place than it was in the dungeons. Snape apparently really liked the wing backed chair that was positioned to the left of the fire. It was hidden by the door when it was opened so he was often left un-disturbed, something that was very rare indeed, when he was trying to read in his office.

What Sirius really needed was a Catalogue of all the books in the library, he thought as he arched his back and stretched with a groan. Maybe another cup of tea would help.

"I can't read, when you keep making that infernal noise, Black," the potions master grouched from his chair.

"Sorry Snape," he clearly wasn't. "I didn't realise you were still here. When do you have to return to haunting your dungeon of gloom?"

The glare he received, would have turned water into ice. "What has you groaning?"

"There's something I desperately need to find," the shaggy haired man sat down, head in hands. "But it is nearly impossible to find anything in there." He nodded towards the door to the library. "Because the library is so old, there has been no cataloguing system put in place. Everything has just been placed on the shelves in the order it was purchased, it is completely un-organised."

"What is it you are seeking?" Snape closed the book he had been reading, using his index finger to temporarily hold his place.

Silver eyes observed the dour man through the gaps in his fingers. As he reached his decision, elegant hands raked through his hair and Sirius straightened. "You know what it is I seek. When I asked if you would look after Harry's potions. You knew Dumbledore's reasons for keeping him in that house, for not watching him, for not treating him. I figured it out. I need to find another solution." He leaned into the back of his chair, his eyes closed.

Black eyes widened as the dour man sat bolt upright, "You imbecile! It isn't safe to talk about it so openly. Anyone could hear you!" Snape hissed.

"I have been receiving help. My barriers are nearly repaired, and this room will protect the secrets of the Lord of the House. No one can listen to what is said in here without my permission," Sirius reassured calmly.

Snape tipped his head ever so slightly to the side, "And yet the order meetings are held in the kitchen."

"Yes well," Sirius grinned cheekily. "It's amusing to watch both the adults try to ward the room, and the children try to get into it." Seeing Snape's face darken like thunder, he admitted, "Until I took on the Lordship, I didn't know. By then the habit was set." With another groan the Animagus placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the chair. "I had best continue looking."

"There is a spell that can be used on a book," the velvet tones of the potion master halted his exit from the room. "It is in use at my residence. The titles and authors are stored in the book, you can then request what you want by subject, title or author and the codex will tell you the shelf and position number. The problem is that I had to enter all titles by hand."

"A project for the future then," Sirius sighed. "But to late to help me now. Thank you anyway."

"I don't believe Madame Pince would enter all the titles in the library at Hogwarts into her catalogue by hand," Sirius commented silkily.

"No, I don't suppose she would. Mooney got along well with her perhaps he could ask," Sirius mused.

"Or I could," Snape smirked. "For a fee."

The Lord of the House looked appraisingly at the man beside him, "And what would this cost me? Bear in mind, Mooney will probably do it for free."

"Yes, but he would have to enter the Castle, at which point…"

"Albus will know somethings up," Sirius concluded with a sigh. "You make a good point."

"Indeed. And while the wolf may be able to conceal his true purpose, the Headmaster will become aware that you are searching for information. Given that you are no longer as close to the him as you once were, and with the history of your House. I believe at the very least, he would become suspicious that you know about the …..receptacles."

"What do you propose?"

"I will seek out Irma, requesting advice on ordering my personal library. If anyone asks further, I shall tell them that I recently acquired a large shipment of books from a dealer on the continent and that I do not want to go to the trouble of entering them into my catalogue individually. A fact which is true should anyone wish to check."

"And you use the knowledge you find out yourself as well. You think of everything don't you?"

"I certainly try."

"Alright Snape," Sirius conceded. "What is it that you want?"

"I want basilisk venom to experiment on." He lifted the book that he still had in his hand. "There are several potions, that require various components from a basilisk. The most intriguing of them uses the venom. I would like to take up the challenge of first trialling and then improving them."

"Why bother, if only to ask an unachievable price? Fleamont said there hadn't been basilisk parts sold on the open market since 1917. So unless one was discovered while I was in Azkaban, where on earth am I expected to find basilisk venom?" Sirius asked in complaint.

" .Godson!" Snape said in staccato opening the book, in a clear dismissal.

"Fine!" Sirius huffed.

As he stood on the landing outside the Master bedroom, Sirius wondered whether Percival and Harry were still inside. He should probably check in to see what had happened. Just in case he needed to have the little witches and wizards talk with Harry.

Pop

"Kreacher!" Sirius, did not shriek (no he was far to refined for shrieking).

"Mistresses Disappointment is wanting something?" Kreacher hummed. "He is wondering what Littlest Master is up to Yes?"

"No! I mean…well yes, I guess. Can you just tell me if it is safe for me to go in there? I don't want to be interrupting anything?"

"You won't get hurt," Kreacher grinned, as he popped away.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sirius complained. Then taking a deep breath he pushed open the door.

The room was empty. Sirius hit his head against the door.

"Ruddy, stupid…" thump, thump.

"Um. Are you alright Sirius?" Harry's hesitant voice came from behind him.

Sirius straightened abruptly, "Yes!"

"O….kay. Then why were you doing that?" Harry looked at him dubiously.

"Doing what? I wasn't doing anything!" said Sirius taking a step away from the door.

"You know what, never mind. I don't think I want to know," Harry shook his head.

"So, Harry," Sirius started, he was unsure now which question to ask. The Basilisk, which quite frankly he was terrified to know the answer to or the 'Talk' which he was also terrified to know the answer to. He wondered if he could pass the 'Talk' off to Arthur? Arthur had experience after all. No. Probably not. After all, even his own Father had given him the pureblood version of the 'Talk' as limited as it was. Then there was the one Euphemia had given to James! Now that had been hilarious, she'd transfigured fruit into anatomically correct body parts, James had been traumatised for a month.

"Sirius. Are you sure you're alright?" Sirius realised that he had been staring into space while having his internal debate. The "Talk' could probably wait, if it hadn't already happened, and if he waited long enough, he was sure Percival would take care of it.

"Ok…Yeah, I'm swell."

"Swell?" Harry giggled. "Who says that. You've been holding out on me Sirius I thought you were only forty, but it turns out you're ninety!"

"I'm thirty-six you little bugger!" Sirius spluttered. Though in all honesty he was just glad that Harry could still laugh. "I actually have a favour to ask."

"Anything!"

"Now Harry!" a stronger voice echoed across the landing. "We have got to work on that. I know it's Sirius, but you need to start finding out the details to things before you go agreeing anything! Your agreement is seen by magic as ….well not a vow exactly, but kind of like a promise or pact I guess. And if you then back out on it you may be punished."

"Oh! I didn't know."

"I know, that's why I'm telling you now," Percival said as he joined them. "Also your conversation is not unobserved," he added much more quietly, eyes flicking to the door of Ginny and Hermione's room which was ajar.

"Right," Sirius frowned. "Let's…let's head back in to see Buckbeak then," he said it loud enough that it would be heard by those in the room.

"You didn't tell anyone that you are moving rooms yet?" Percival asked as the door was pulled shut.

"Nah. If they think Buckbeak is still in here, they'll avoid it like they have so far and I might be able to get some peace and quiet."

"Well what is it you need?" Harry asked.

"I can't find a damn thing in that library. There is no cataloguing system in place, so I am having to search each individual shelf and then go through every book, one by one. I have to read every one that I haven't heard of before. At this rate it will take me until your children graduate before I find out if there is anything useful in there."

"So, you want us to help look?" Harry guessed. Ignoring Percival's shaking head.

"No. Harry there are some books in there that…. well I don't want to know about. Magic…." he sighed. "I really wish your mother was here to explain this to you. She had this way with words…." he sighed again. "Ok, Magic is all encompassing Harry. She doesn't discriminate between dark, light, black or white. Those are names that witches and wizards came up with. Magic is magic. It's like a wand…"

"A wand?" Harry tipped his head to the side in confusion, frowned brow and lips parted. Percival had to look away.

"Yeah, a wand sitting on a shelf in Ollivander's, isn't good or bad. By itself it is nothing, it could be used for either or possibly both, but what decides if the things done with it are good or bad…"

"Is the wizard who uses it," Harry finished as the idea formed.

"Yes. Most magic follows the natural order of things. For example wingardium leviosa, it lifts things up, however it doesn't change them in any significant way, and what goes up must come down. Transfiguration, Lily used to say it was something it just rearranged how the atoms look. Now some magic deals with things that are against the order of the world. Really, it's only necromancy. Now these we have to be careful of. By themselves, like all magic they are neither good nor bad, but because they go against the natural order they have a certain, pull. They are addicting, so once they are used it is easier for a wizard to use them again and they are less easy to control. So, things can go…wrong."

"Like the horcruxes?"

"Perhaps like that? I don't know what Riddle was like before hand but….. in the last war he had started to create an army of the dead."

"What like Zombies?" Harry frowned.

Sirius stared at Harry, "I'll be honest, I have no idea what that is." He turned to Percival.

"Don't look at me I'm a Pureblood too, I don't know!"

"They are dead people, but they can move and they eat people's brains. Dudley had a computer game about them once. I wasn't allowed to play it," he finished a bit lamely.

"Kind of…" Sirius shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Inferi are re-animated dead bodies. No, they don't eat brains. They only do what the one controlling them directs them to. The point…the point was that it is a form of necromancy. Healers came up with the spell so that it was easier to teach new healers about the body. They could sit the inferi in the corner of the room and the body wouldn't deteriorate, then when it was needed they would order it to do whatever they needed to show the trainees. Voldemort, he used it stack people, there is nothing more terror inducing than being attacked by your Great Aunt. When you know she died last wee. Same spell different intention."

Harry nodded, "I think I understand. But what does that have to do with me helping you?"

"Oh….. Sorry, I got a bit off track."

Percival rolled his eyes, "we were talking about the types of books in the library," he said helpfully.

"Types of books? Ah.. right. So, a lot of the books in the first part of the library are about what we call Black magic or magic that goes against the natural order of things. Though again that is just a name that some random ministry official came up with about two hundred years ago. I don't want you to read it just yet. I don't want to read it just yet! Some of them are covered in spells designed to trap you into reading them, because you haven't been exposed to these things before you might not be able to detect if they start influencing you. Rather than risk you being hurt, I don't want you in there just yet."

"Okay. So, what did you want then, because, I'm kind of confused right now?"

"Yes, well like I said, your mother was much better at explaining these things. Snape told me about a solution. There is a spell that can be cast on a book it creates an index which can be asked to list all the books in the library on a subject, or by author. He uses it in his personal library, though there he has to enter each title individually. He believes that Madame Pince might have an easier method, because she has so many books arriving for the Hogwarts library every year."

"I'm still confused why you need me."

"Yeah, I'm coming up to your part. Snape is willing to ask Madame Pince for the spell she uses. However, he is a Slytherin and they don't anything without wanting something in return."

"Sirius why can't you go and ask Madame Pince yourself?"

"Ah well, apart from being a suspected criminal. At some point in the seven years I was at Hogwarts, there may, or may not, have been an incident, or two, which may or may not have led to an explosion in the restricted section of the library, and it may, or may not, have destroyed several desks, two shelves of books, a window and part of the ceiling," Sirius blushed.

Harry blinked in surprise, "What did you do?"

"Never mind that now! The important thing is Madame Pince, possibly understandably, is unlikely to look favourably on any request I have."

"So, you have to bribe Snape into doing it for you?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Though if it works it would be worth it. However, I don't know if the price he has demanded is too high or if it is even possible to attain," Sirius said solemnly.

"What does he want?"

"Basilisk venom."

"Where are we going to get Basilisk venom?" Percival demanded. "The last basilisk parts available on the free market was in 1917. When the Newt Sc…"

"It's ok Perce," Harry said softly, placing his hand on Percival's forearm. "I know where there is a dead Basilisk. I'm not sure if I want to go back down there and it will have to wait until we go to school, but it is doable."

Percival stared at Harry for a moment, his eyes un-focused as he remembered something, "When we were at Gringotts, you mentioned a Basilisk fang." The fingers on Percival's hand twitched as if he would dearly like to set that hand on the back of Harry's neck.

Harry nodded. "How do I get the venom out of the Basilisk?" he asked.

Sirius' mouth fell open, "I don't actually know."

"Perhaps we could ask Snape?" Percival suggested. "Or the Goblins might know."

"Snape first," Sirius agreed. "He should be in the parlour still, he didn't look like he was in a hurry to move."

Indeed, when they entered the Parlour, Snape was still sitting in the same chair he had been in earlier.

"Snape, Harry was wondering how one would go about retrieving the venom from a Basilisk. Any Ideas?" Sirius asked the dour man.

"You haven't had it harvested yet?" Snape asked aghast, his book falling to the floor.

"Ah…um..I.." Harry stuttered.

"Eloquent as ever Potter," Snape sneered, he bent forward elegantly to retrieve the tome he had dropped.

"Excuse me Professor," Percival stepped in front of his friend. "First of all how was Harry, who was raised by his No-Maj Aunt, supposed to know he was allowed to harvest the beast, or what parts were useful given he was….?" He turned to Harry.

"Twelve, I was twelve," Harry said quietly, eyes on the floor.

"You were twelve! He was twelve!" Percival ground out. "What kind of ridiculous school is Hogwarts? Don't bother trying to defend it," he glared at Sirius, who just raised his hands chest high in surrender. "Would you expect a Pureblooded twelve-year-old to be able to just up and harvest such a beast, after the trauma of fighting it?" His glare was turned on the potions master, who scowled. "No, I didn't think so. Then, when was Harry supposed to arrange someone else to do it? Hmm, not in the summer when he was confined to his Aunt's, so how about during the year when he was hiding from a killer or the next year when he was dumped into a dangerous tournament with no support!?"

"Be that as it may," Snape's tone was just as clipped as usual. "Are you telling me the whole cadaver is still under the school?" He looked at Harry, who nodded without raising his head. "If you are willing Mr Potter, when we get to school, you will take me down to the beast. The venom should still be preserved so at the very least we will be able to retrieve that, and I will assess if anything else is usable. If it is I would be willing to harvest it for you, for a fee of course."

Harry mumbled something, head still down. It was the position more than anything else that struck Severus. He had never seen Potter senior take up such a pose, maybe they weren't so alike after all.

"Head up and speak again. You are a man not a mouse, Potter!"

"I want Percival to come with us, please," Harry asked timidly.

"Of course," Snape agreed, as he looked into those green eyes. Something fell into place with a click. Lily had looked like that once. Severus had gone to the park in Cokeworth to try and apologise to her but stopped when he saw her sitting on the swings, her posture slumped, eyes on her feet. He stayed in the distance watching her, until Petunia had come to call her home. The older sister had hit Lily over the head and called her all sorts of foul names as they left the park together.

"Do you know how it can be sold? Could you take your fee from that Professor Snape?" the boy asked meekly.

"I suppose I might be able to arrange it for you," there was an up lift in one corner of Severus' mouth, not that anyone noticed. "In fact, it might be best. I can arrange for the funds to be transferred into your vault."

"How much would you charge for managing all that for me?"

"It would depend on the size of the beast," Snape stated.

"It was half again as tall as I was at twelve and about three quarters the length of the Great Hall," Harry quite enjoyed the shocked expression that his statement forced onto his professor's face and gave a little giggle which he hastily suppressed and hid with a cough.

"You are saying the beast you killed was six foot high and sixty feet long!" he gasped.

"To be quite honest professor, I spent much of the time running away from it, so I'm not really sure exactly how big it was. Should we wait until we look at it to make a decision?"

"Yes, I believe we should," Snape said somewhat faintly, before he rallied. "However, for the venom sacks should be intact…" he paused as he noticed Harry's eyes drop again and his hands grasped at the untucked hem of his shirt. "Mr Potter?"

"Um, one may not be."

"And why is that?"

"Because when it bit me, the fang came out into my arm."

"When it bit you!" Sirius' sounded hysterical. "It…I agree with Percival, you aren't going back there! You're staying here with me forever, where I can keep you safe."

Harry gave an awkward laugh, though there was a part of him that was quite happy that someone cared so much about his safety, even if it was years after the fact. "Really I'm fine Sirius you know I have to go back," he said in the end.

Sirius collapsed dramatically into a chair. "How did you survive?"

"Fawkes cried on my arm," Harry admitted shrugging one shoulder.

"But wait," Severus swallowed around the lump the formed in his throat, "If Fawkes could come to you, how come Dumbledore wasn't…"

"He'd been expelled from the school remember," Harry prompted.

"Yes, but Fawkes is his familiar, so it wouldn't matter if he were Headmaster or not."

"I never thought of that at the time, I was just happy that Ginny hadn't died."

"I suppose you would be," Severus sighed, Merlin save him from Gryffindors! "In your first potions lesson of the year I will give both you and Percival detention. We will use that as an excuse to go and examine the carcass. Do you agree Mr Potter?" Harry nodded. "Good. I will see if I can't find Irma and enquire about that spell this weekend. Black, make sure you have acquired a blank book that is solid enough to withstand the enchanting. Now if you'll excuse me I had better return to the castle."

They watched him leave. The silence was broken by Harry asking, "I've always wondered how he got his robe to billow that way."

It was only four days till the end of the Holidays. The whole house was waiting for the arrival of school owls carrying the book lists. The shadow of a bird swooped in through window announcing the arrival of Hedwig.

"Hello girl," Harry cooed. "Was it a successful hunt?" She hooted at him imperious and lifted a foot that was clasped around a roll of parchment. "Oh, I see not hunting then. Thank you. You're the best," he praised her, not seeing the bemused smile on Percival's face. "You know you really should go and hunt. I find flying is so relaxing and you need time off from looking after me," he coaxed. She hooted at him again, he was such a good wizard, and turned wide eyes on Percival in expectation.

"She's probably waiting in case you need to send a reply Harry." Hedwig chirruped her agreement, her wizard had chosen such a clever nest mate.

Harry un-rolled the missive. "It's from Seraphina, reminding us that both Healer Addison and Striknott want to meet with me before school goes back."

"I was hoping we would be able to do it at the same time as we did our school shopping."

Harry shook his head, "It's going to be bedlam, if every student gets their list at the same time. We'll never make it through Alley, now that everyone knows you are Madame Picquery's godson." The news had hit the papers not long after Harry's trial. "How will we arrange it without anyone noticing?"

Percival thought, "First let's ask Snape for the book list, then we'll head out today. If the lists come today the earliest they will get everyone organised to go shopping is tomorrow. People will already have plans for today so there won't be as many people about."

"The professor hasn't stopped in this morning, and it will take an owl too long to reach him," Harry pointed out.

"We'll get Sirius to send him a patronus."

Harry was back lying on the rug in front of the unlit fireplace in the library, deep in his mindscape. He'd began to construct a foundation. It was curious though there was a sludgy ooze coming up in one corner. He'd tried to dig through it, under it and around it but it was tenacious and kept coming. It seemed that this was why his walls kept falling over. He'd need another idea. He glanced up and noticed the perfectly fluffy white wisps of cloud floating through the sky…..huh, well that might just work!

Sirius' gasp disturbed Harry and he slowly emerged from his meditative state to the smooth chocolate tones of his professor's voice.

"What's wrong Sirius?" the lingering glow of a patronus was just disappearing.

"Nothing," Sirius looked up from where he had been jotting down the list of books and potions ingredients. Harry noticed his fingers shook just a little.

"If you don't want to tell me that something is wrong, that's fine Sirius. Just don't lie to me. You're pale and shaking. Even I can tell something is wrong."

Sirius shook his head, "Nothing is wrong. I was just surprised by the form of Snape's patronus, it reminded me of someone else that's all. You don't need to worry about it. It was just a bit of shock. Well, we've got the list now and you boys can head into Diagon Alley with Seraphina whenever you like. I'll leave the list out for Molly to find later this evening."

Harry nodded, as Percival stuck his head out from between two rows of shelving, "Harry, Snape mentioned you needed a hand with Potions. This might help," he said as he emerged. He came and placed the brown leather-bound book into Harry's lap, _Potions Preparation Explained _by Corvus Simple. There was a second volume, _Potions Agitation De-mystified. "_They're from the turn of the century but…."

"Anything is better than the nothing that Snape has told us so far. I think if I understood why we did things, I would have better luck trying to remember what to do. Mind you it would help if I didn't end up with extra ingredients in my cauldron."

"Extra ingredients?"

"Yeah, the Slytherins usually," Percival raised an eyebrow, "Well a particular Slytherin anyway, likes to throw things into my cauldron. I think he has stopped throwing them into Neville's because it usually makes his potions explode."

"What is his name Harry? Perhaps we can ask Snape to get them to stop?" Percival asked. Sirius snorted, and Percival glared at him.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry shrugged. "Snape isn't going to do anything. He is close with Malfoy's parents. He might even be his Godson. I don't know." Harry shrugged, resulting in Percival reaching out a hand to press lightly on his shoulder.

Sirius was quiet for a minute, "You mean Narcissa's boy?"

Harry went to shrug again, but Percival pressed down firmly, earning a sideways glare from Harry. "I think that's her name. I've only seen her the once. At the Quidditch World cup last year."

"Well if it is her, then I might be able to get him to stop once I am cleared," Sirius smoothed his beard.

"In the meantime," Percival said. "There is a small ward spell that will prevent things being added to your cauldron by anyone except you."

"There is? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Harry whined.

"I don't know if it is used any…here. And anyway I'm telling you now. You can also engrave a sequence of runes onto some stones and place them at the corners of your table which will do much the same thing. We'll practice both when we get back. I'll just send a message to Aunt Sera."

Fortunately, Healer Addison had been available when Seraphina had contacted him, and they were both waiting for the boys when they emerged from the floo.

Addison spent half an hour with Harry talking about how he felt about returning to Hogwarts and leaving Sirius behind. This was the first time he was leaving someone behind. He would miss Sirius and the Healer thought he would feel some homesickness for the first time.

"Is there some way, other than by owl, that we can talk when I'm at Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "I think if I knew that I could talk to Sirius when I wanted, it wouldn't be so bad."

Addison smiled, "Well yes. I'm not sure if they are available here, but there are pairs of books where you can write in one and it appears in the other copy. When he replies it appears in yours."

Harry went pale and shook his head, "No…no thanks. Isn't there anything else?"

"When we get time. I want you to explain to me why that concerns you so greatly Harry." Healer Addison said softly. "For now though, there are also mirrors, which work a bit like the floo where you can see and speak directly to the other person, but I haven't seen a pair of those around for years. You're most likely to find a set in one of the second-hand shops in Diagon. They went out of fashion because they are very fragile and tend to break."

Harry sighed they sounded ideal, if he could find a set. "If I can't find a them would I be able to make set?"

"Hmm, it's a tricky bit of enchanting. You might be able to achieve the same thing with runes though. If you are studying the subject," Harry shook his head. "Perhaps Percival could help you." Harry glanced over to where the older boy was seated next to Seraphina, they were laughing over something.

Addison observed the expression on Harry's face and decided that was something else that they would talk about later. "Now Harry, I think we should sit for the next bit." He led Harry over to the chairs near Seraphina and Percival. "Firstly, I am pleased with the improvements in your health so far, though you must keep up with your potions regime for the time being. I will review again at the Yule break at which point we may be able to start cutting things back. And you can now start the exercise program we discussed. I mentioned last time that I had your blood results. They were most curious." Here Addison took on a lecturing tone, "Most toxins have what Healers refer to as a half-life. This is the amount of time it takes for the toxin to be absorbed, processed or otherwise eliminated from the body. It seems that you have come into contact with a substance that does not have a known half-life."

"Basilisk Venom," Percival muttered. Seraphina gave a small gasp.

Addison nodded, "Indeed. One of the reasons that the venom from a Basilisk is so potent is that when it is exposed to the blood it does not break down. It binds to the haemoglobin and displaces the oxygen. Leading to chemical suffocation," he said matter of factly. "You however are obviously still alive. The venom is not processed by the body at all, when the haemoglobin degrades the molecule of venom falls off and binds to another. Now in you it appears that another component has bound to the Basilisk venom preventing it from binding to the haemoglobin."

Harry nodded, "Phoenix tears."

Addison looked thoughtful, "I had wondered what it was. The two seem to be in perfect balance in your body, neither being absorbed or processed. So they don't seem to be doing any harm. Though I will need to keep a watch on you. The muggles have a blood filtration process, that can be used later if we need to remove them from your system."

"There's no spell for it?" Harry asked curiously.

"No. It is not something that is usual in the Magical world, so there has never been a need."

"Will having these things in his blood hurt him?" Seraphina asked.

"I don't believe so, but I am intending on monitoring the situation. I will check again at Yule after which once yearly should be enough I believe."

"That's good then," Harry nodded, after gulping a few breaths.

"So, care to explain how you got both the venom and tears in your blood?"

Having heard the shortened addition of the story already, Percival encouraged the others to stay seated while he made the tea. He returned levitating a tray, with a wave of his wand he sent cups and saucers drifting to each person. Harry had reached the finale.

"So, I pulled the object out of the hat. It was a silver sword, with ruby studded hilt. Then the snake struck again, and I raised the sword in both hands leaning all my weight on it as I drove it through the roof of its mouth. But it's fang pierced my arm, splintered off a piece as the Basilisk fell to the floor. After that I simply stabbed the diary with the broken piece of fang." Well that explained the aversion to diaries then.

"What happened to Ginny? and how did you get out of there?" Percival asked.

"Ginny came around after Tom Riddle faded away. We walked back to where Ron had cleared some of the rocks. That was when we found out that Lockhart hadn't improved any after being hit with the spell that back-fired from Ron's broken wand. Fawkes flew us up to the bathroom so we didn't have to climb back up the slide."

"So which Healer reviewed you, after this….incident?" Healer Addison asked unclipped tones. There should have been some investigation, and the data on the amount of toxin in his bloodstream. If he compared the two then he would be able to see if it had changed at all.

"Um….none." Harry coughed. "Mrs Weasley took Ginny to the infirmary and Ron took Lockhart, but I stayed behind to talk to Dumbledore. When he'd finished telling me that I can only speak Parseltongue because of my link to Riddle, he sent me to the leaving feast. The next day I was on the train back to London."

"So, let me summarise," Seraphine pursed her lips. "Albus Dumbledore was a teacher at the school the last time this beast struck, killing a student. He knew that the half giant that was blamed for that incident was actually innocent but did nothing to prove it and allowed an un-qualified student to continue to use the pieces of his broken wand. Yet when a cat was petrified, followed by both a ghost, then several students, he still failed to close the school or investigate. In fact the governors themselves failed to act until a further three students were petrified. Then it wasn't until a student was kidnapped, with a murder note left behind that the decision was made to evacuate the school. Leaving it to two students to solve the puzzle and save the day."

"Yeah," Harry swallowed. "That sounds about right."

"I think I need to review my thoughts on Mr Dumbledore. Perhaps he isn't as light as I thought."

"Yes, well wait until he tells you about his first year," Addison muttered earning a sharp look from Seraphina. "Part of my job is to ensure that Mr Potter is healthy, that includes both his physical and mental health. Each of the events he has experienced has left an imprint on him, that is larger than the physical consequences. I have sworn not to discuss the things he tells me, so you will have to wait until he is ready to talk about them. However, I can say that you are right in reconsidering your opinion of that man. At best he is a dementing fool, at worst….. Well let's just say that it would shake the very foundations of Magical Britain."

Harry stumbled as he made his way out of the floo, nearly running into one of the chairs that sat in front of the desk. He was grateful that Seraphina had somehow managed to convince Striknott to allow the group to floo directly into his office. It would save them one trip through the Alley, decreasing their chance of being discovered.

"Careful Mr Potter," Striknott said. "Madame Picquery, Mr Graves," he inclined his head to the new arrivals.

"Firstly, Mr Potter, are you happy for me to discuss your financial dealings with….." he waved his hand to encompass Seraphina and Percival.

"Yes, and could you call me Harry, please."

There was that parody of a smile again, all sharp pointy teeth, "I am afraid Mr Potter, given the state of your holdings it is best if I keep this formal. So you will just have to put up with it for the time being."

"Oh…"

"If you will be seated I will explain," he opened the tome that sat on his desk, holding it out for Harry to take. "You will now see a number of columns, the first is income generated by the estate as per the last Lord Potter's instructions. This was in actuality your Grandfather Fleamont Potter."

Harry nodded remembering the name from the tapestry in the parlour at Grimmauld place. "Why not Dad….Oh the war."

"Correct Mr Potter. Fleamont passed in the June of 1979, at which time the Wizarding World was at war. A short while later your mother fell pregnant with you and your family went into hiding. Your father did not come into the bank to make any changes. In some ways this has worked well for you. As you can see in column one when he sold the company that made Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, Fleamont invested the money heavily, both in the Muggle and Magical worlds, those investments have been providing you with a steady income. Now the next column is for deductions that have been authorised. This primarily consists of the money that has been sent to your Aunt for your care. This money was mandated in your Parents wills, and as such even though it has not actually been spent on your care, we at the bank can not retrieve it. However, I have some doubts about the account into which the money has been being deposited. I would like you to contact your Aunt and confirm which bank she has been using and if she has been receiving the payment. If it has been diverted to an account other than her own, we will be able to retrieve it and ensure that it is directed to the proper recipient."

Swallowing his anger at the years of being told how much of a financial burden he was, Harry nodded. If Aunt Petunia had never received the money….. "What bank has it been going into?"

"Lloyds."

"I will let you know. If I tell her to write to you at the bank, will she be able to send it by Muggle post?"

"Indeed, she will. If she wishes to post letters to you via us, we can put them through your post box."

"Um….Striknott, before you go on. Do you know why my Parents didn't hide at the Manor?"

Striknott peered at Harry over his long nose, then he gave a huff,"In certainty no, in assumption yes. If I tell you, you must be aware that I may be wrong."

"I understand," Harry said quietly, "But I would still like to hear your thoughts, please." At least the boy was respectful.

"Very well. You may have noticed that I mentioned your Grandfather passing but not your Grandmother. That is because she passed two months before he did. Usually when a magical illness occurs it does not mutate or change in the way, I have been led to believe, that Muggle illnesses do. One such illness is Dragon Pox. There has a been a vaccine available to prevent and cure it in all species for nearly one Hundred years. For some reason in the late 1970's this one magical disease changed. It became much more virulent, those that contracted it had only a fifty percent survival rate, fortunately it didn't appear to be particularly contagious or virulent amongst the general population only the elderly. There was a group of elderly witches and wizards who after banding together to fight Grindelwald, still met regularly, every Sunday afternoon. Euphemia, your Grandmother, used to joke that she should invite me one day to stir up the old Fuddy Duddy's," Striknott cleared his throat. Harry wondered if the Goblin was getting emotional at the memory. "The entire group caught the illness and over half of them had passed before your Grandfather managed to create a new vaccine as well as a cure. He had a blood sample of your Grandmother's which he had been using to test the cure, somehow during the process of his testing, he was exposed to the virus and contracted the disease. The cure which worked for everyone else, failed to work for him. The romantics say that he just gave up so that he could join his beloved Mia. Fearing that the Pox had mutated again, the Ministry ordered that Potter Manor be cleaned by House Elves and then quarantined for a period of ninety days. Which was the assumed incubation period of the disease, by the time it was released your Parents were already in hiding. It may have been too much trouble to try and move after that."

"Doesn't that seem a little odd?" Harry had his head tilted to one side, a frown marring his brow. "In the muggle world, even if a whole group is exposed to a virus, not all of them get it. Then what is the mechanism of transfer? Droplets, blood contact….how would an entire group become exposed?"

"There are many things about it that were unusual Mr Potter. Including how your Grandfather passed. Alone in his house with the cure in front of him, and only two marks of the disease on his body, neither one in the active stage of the disease. Your Grandfather, ensured that recipe for both the cure and the vaccine was sent to the Guild of Potioneers, with a note that all profits were to go to furthering the art of potion making. After the war the Guild however decided that a small portion of the funds should go to yourself. You can see the entries in the first column of your book of accounts."

Harry ran a finger down the column, until he came to the entry, wondering what it would have been like to know the man behind it. Why was he so bad at potions when his Grandfather was so smart? Was his Dad good at potions too? He wanted to cry and scream and rage at how unjust it was that he had to find out information about his family from his ruddy Account Manager of all people. With a huff he raised his eyes to meet Striknott's, in a silent acknowledgement that the past could not be changed, they could only move on towards the future.

"Now the third column is for un-explained withdrawals of items from the Potter properties and vaults. The books that had been removed from Potter Manor are listed here, as was the Potter Invisibility Cloak. They are listed in order of removal date, the second date is the date the item was retrieved by your House Elf. As you can see the Potter Grimoire, was the first removed and the only book currently not returned. There are several other items including a number of family wands that have also not been returned. Your House Elf has been most generous with his time and worked diligently to find all of the other books and most of the items. He is still searching for the remaining objects. The tallies I am about to give you do not include any item that was returned prior to our meeting. In total three hundred and nine books were removed, one hundred and thirty-nine of them being located at the private residence of Hermione Granger in an enlarged trunk in her bedroom. Another hundred and fifty-seven were in Headmaster's private chambers at Hogwarts. Ten in the Hogwarts library. The last three were found at Hogwarts, on the coffee table in the Potion Master's quarters with a note, that was being used as a book mark, from Albus Dumbledore, that stated that he had found them in a second-hand shop and thought that Snape might find them interesting."

The warmth spreading through his neck told Harry that Percival knew how upset he was getting.

"Forty-two items were located in the Headmasters office. Ten of these were magically linked to you in some way. Your Elf has replicated these, and retrieved the originals. The rest were found in a variety of private residences including McGonagall, Diggle, Weasley, Moody, Jones, Fudge, Woodhaven….there are more. With only one item being located at each abode."

"He gave them away as presents or something didn't he?" Harry asked quietly.

"That was the conclusion that we came to as well," Striknott agreed. "Finally, the last column is the list of financial deductions of unknown origin. This includes the payments to The Order of the Phoenix. Now we haven't stopped making these payments as yet," he paused waiting for the explosion from Harry. It never came, though he did receive a glare that clearly communicated that he had better explain himself quickly. "After talking to your previous accountant, we know that these payments were authorised by Albus Dumbledore, who at no time in the past 14 years has been your guardian, despite what the man himself thought. Your accountant knew this, and yet made the payments anyway. We have been questioning the Goblin concerned and his response is troubling. He is missing memories from several years and his life partner noted that his personality has slowly been changing over the last 13 years. I do not believe this to be a coincidence. However, I need evidence. If we stop the payments a protest will be made, but it will be known that we have discovered something, so we lose our chance to catch the culprit."

"It can only be Dumbledore, can't it?" Harry asked.

"We believe so however, with the missing memories it is impossible to prove. Perhaps it was someone under polyjuice, or glamour. We are tracking the funds, and we will send out a letter at the end of the year, stating that a bank wide review has led to some discrepancies being uncovered, with a request for attendance to confirm the continued transactions. At that point, the payments will stop, and we will start to retrieve the lost finances. Any payment made without authorisation will be returned. There are other payments that have been authorised in a similar fashion, though each appears to be a once off. There are several that went to Millicent Bagnold the previous Minister for Magic in the November of 1981. These weren't picked up at the time, as your Grandfather had on two previous occasions authorised a donation to the Auror department at the Ministry to assist in the providing of battle robes. And yearly sum was gifted to St Mungo's in the second week of November 1981. Again, as both your Grandparents and Parents had made donations to St Mungos before, these were overlooked despite being for a far more significant sum. I am trying to correlate the times of these donations with events of the time, but it will take some time. We have of course noted that Sirius Black was remanded to Azkaban not twenty-four hours after the donation to Bagnold."

It took several minutes of deep breathing combined with Percival's thumb rubbing circles on his neck and whispered voice in his ear before Harry was able to speak, after all it wasn't the Goblins fault. In truth they hadn't been anything other than helpful. "Thank you Striknott. I believe that the donation to St Mungos can stand as long as it has been used appropriately, though next year we can decrease it to a more reasonable level. It seems like I have created a lot of extra work for you. Is there anything that I can do in recompense?"

The pointy teeth were on display once more, "Are you aware Mr Potter that Goblins view the items we make differently to wizards?"

Harry shook his head with a frown. "We do. When we are commissioned to make an item. The price of the item is the cost to make it plus the use of the item for the lifetime of the individual who requested it. Wizards believe that the price conveys ownership. Therein lies the difficulty. I know that the Potters have a few items that were crafted by members of my own clan, we would like them returned."

"Take them!" Harry offered immediately, voice rising in pitch. "In fact, take back all of the Goblin made items! I don't want to have anything that is stolen! Do you remember why they were made? Is it possible to have a list of the items with why they were commissioned?" Harry asked, it wasn't much, but it might tell him something about his family.

Teeth gleamed at him once more, "I can only speak for my clan, Mr Potter and we will provide you with any information that still exists." Reaching into his desk drawer he removed two pouches of Galleons. "Now I believe you and Mr Graves have some shopping to do? You may draw your wand to disguise them Madame Picquery."

Minutes later the three of them were on the street looking exceedingly different. Seraphina, had conjured herself a walking stick, with her now white hair and drab grey robes, she looked every inch the wizened old Grandmother she was pretending to be. Harry giggled as he threw sideways glances at the now blond Percival, who had grumbled slightly at the bright blue robes he had been forced to wear. Blonde hair didn't suit Percival at all, but at least he didn't look like a pig in a wig. Harry had been glamoured to be a slightly smaller sized copy of this version of Percival, though his robes were burgundy.

"Oof, I'm so sorry!" Harry said as he recovered from his fall. Turning a blind corner in Flourish and Blotts he had run straight into Neville Longbottom; the formidable Augusta Longbottom was just behind her Grandson.

"No it's ok, I should have been looking where I was going," Neville responded looking at the small boy he had landed on in embaressment.

"Neville!" snapped the Longbottom Matriarch. "Get up! As if your results last year were not bad enough now you have to be rolling around on the floor." Neville flushed bright red.

"Sorry Gran, but I can't help it. I don't think I have much magic," Harry heard Neville whisper, and turned his green eyes to Percival, who was interestedly checking both Longbottom's cores.

"You have plenty of magic," Percival said out loud.

"What!" Neville gapped.

"Don't get involved in things that do not concern you young man!" Madame Longbottom snapped.

"But I can see it. His core has an affinity for grey magic, so should be able to equally manage both the light and the dark spells and the reservoir is huge."

Faster than Harry could blink, Neville was grabbed in a vice like grip and hauled to his feet, "So he has been slacking then! I am ashamed to have given you your Father's wand, you will clearly never…"

"Why would he have his Father's wand? Ollivander told me that the wand chooses the wizard, and Neville's Dad's still alive so why would it choose an other wizard?" Harry asked head cocked curiously. "Was his Father good at Herbology because Neville's absolutely brilliant at it, and he's excellent at charms as well."

Augusta twitched so violently that the vulture on her hat wobbled precariously and the boys were struck by the wicked desire to see it fall off, "That is none of your business! Who are you anyway? I have a good mind to have a word to your parents about your poor manners!"

The boy at her side had been starring throughout the exchange when suddenly there was a flash of recognition in his hazel eyes and he silently mouthed a name.

"My brother and I are the wards of a visiting envoy from the Americas Madame, and we schooled for a brief while last year at Hogwarts," Percival improvised.

"Hmpff. It would be best in the future, young man if you kept to yourselves. We do not go sticking our nose into other peoples business in this country! Come Neville!" She took a swooping turn and left the shop. Green eyes followed their path and Harry could just make out Neville saying, "Could we stop by Ollivander's Gran? Please."

"Fine. But don't be complaining to me when no wand will have you!" she snapped in reply.

"Could you really see his core?" Harry asked Percival.

"Mmmm, it's something of a talent I have , almost like the gifts that Sirius was telling you about," Percival murmured. "Though we shouldn't talk about it, in a place like this." He gestured to the crowded shop. "Let's just get our books and get out of here."

Coming into the kitchen that night Molly found the book list on the table.

"Who left this here?" she demanded, glaring around the room.

"I did," Sirius said as he wandered into the kitchen. He had started seeing double when looking though the shelves so decided it was time for a break in his search. "Do you need a hand? I tend to blow things up in the cooking, but I am a dab hand with the chopping."

Snap, Molly flicked a tea towel at the Animagus, "Get out of my ki…." he raised an eyebrow at her. "_The_ kitchen while I am cooking Sirius Black. Though if you go and find Harry I'll gladly accept his help."

"He found an interesting book in the library, but I'm sure he will be along shortly, Sirius said. Seraphina had sent a Patronus advising that they had finished their shopping and the boys would make their way back in the next few minutes. The books and things would be posted in the morning.

"I was worried that the lists were so late this year, so I asked Se….Snape if he could let us know what was on it so that we could make arrangements."

"Are you sure it's reliable?"

"Of course. He's a teacher at the school, why wouldn't it be reliable?"

"He's never liked Harry much. And I think that it is something he would do, give out the wrong books. We'll wait until the lists come. They can't be too far away," she reasoned.

"Suit yourself," Sirius shrugged.

On the very last day of the holidays Harry was cleaning up Hedwig's owl droppings when Ron called up the stairs "Hey Harry, booklists are here."

Harry and Percival emerged from their room and peered over the balcony to see Ron standing on the landing outside his room with several envelopes in his hand. He threw one at them as soon as he saw them, and it hit Harry in the middle of his forehead.

"Good shot Ron!" Fred complemented sticking his head out of his room.

"How did he even know?" Harry complained. "I'm never going to live this down!"

"I won't hold it against you," Percival smiled as he reached out a hand and plucked his out of the air, Ron having thrown it as well.

"Seriously, I was expecting you to catch it! You're the youngest seeker in century!" Ron smirked.

"Shut up!" Harry grizzled as they joined Ron in his room and fell on to the bed.

He prised open his envelope. It contained two pieces of parchment; one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September; the other containing the book list. As expected it matched the list that Snape had given them.

"Just two new ones," he said.

'Crack'

Fred and George apparated right next to Harry. He was so used to them doing it by now that he didn't even flinch.

"We were wondering who set the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.

"Because it means that Dumbledore's found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George.

"And about time too," said Fred.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked sitting up to allow the twins the space to join him on the bed.

"Well, earlier this summer we were rather keen to find out what was going on in the Order Meetings, so we created these," George held up what looked to be a flesh covered piece of string.

"Oh yeah, you showed them to Percival when we first arrived. Extendable Ears right?"

"Yeah. So a few weeks back we overheard Mum and Dad talking," Fred told Harry. "And from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year."

"Not surprising is it when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.

"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers. "Yeah I see what you mean."

"What's up with you Ron?" asked Fred.

Ron did not answer. Harry looked round. Ron was standing very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping at his letter from Hogwarts.

"What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment. Fred's mouth fell open too. "Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter. "Prefect?"

George leapt forwards, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand and turned it upside-down. Harry saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice.

"There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. "No-one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect," The twins turned their heads in unison and both of them stared at Harry.

"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred, in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way.

"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" said George indignantly. Harry shrugged uncertain what they wanted him to say.

"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said George.

"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.

"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well at least one of you has got their priorities right." He leaned back to clap Harry on the shoulder while giving Ron a scathing look. "Prefect…..ickle Ronnie the Prefect."

"Oooh Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it would contaminate him.

Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge silently, stared at it for a moment, then held it out to Harry as though mutely asking for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it. A large 'P' was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion. He had seen a badge just like this on Percy's chest on his very first day at Hogwarts, he smiled at the memory.

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand, a jagged slit up one of its sides.

"Did you - did you get it?" She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek. "I knew it!" she said in a tight voice, that Harry was convinced meant that while she had thought it, but hadn't liked it. She brandished her letter, "Me too, Harry, me too!" he could tell her excitement was forced.

"No!" Harry said, wanting to put an end to charade as quickly as possible, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand. "It's Ron, not me."

"It - what?" sounding doubtfully hopeful.

"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.

"Ron?" said Hermione, confusedly. "But….. are you sure? I mean…" she turned red as Ron looked round at her with a defiant expression on his face.

"It's my name on the letter," he said defensively.

"I…." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered now. "I…. well…. wow! Well done Ron! That's really…"

"Condescending," muttered Fred under his breath.

"Unexpected," said George more loudly nodding.

"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever. No it's not….. Ron's done loads of…he's really…." She sounded relieved.

The door behind her opened a little wider and Mrs Weasley backed into the room carrying a load of freshly laundered clothes.

"Ginny said the booklists have come at last," she said glancing round at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes into three piles. "If you give them to me I'll take them to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while your packing. Ron I'll have to get you more pyjamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you are growing…. what colour would you like?"

"Get him red and gold to match his badge," said George, smirking.

"Match his what?" said Mrs Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile.

"His badge," said Fred with the air of getting the worst over quickly. "His lovely shiny new prefect's badge."

Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs Weasley's preoccupation with pyjamas. "His… but….. Ron you're not…..?"

Ron held up his badge as evidence. Mrs Weasley let out a shriek of joy.

"I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful. A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"

In her excitement Mrs Weasley didn't notice the way half the rooms occupants froze following her statement nor did she hear George's indignant mutter of, "What are Fred, Ginny and I the next-door neighbours?!" She merely pushed the twin aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.

"Wait until your Father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happening the middle of all this worry. I'm just thrilled. Oh, Ronnie…."

Fred and George were making faces behind her back, they succeeded in making Ginny laugh, though it didn't hide their hurt. Mrs Weasley still did not notice; arms tight around Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over his face, which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge.

"Mum…. don't.… Mum… get a grip," he muttered, trying to push her away.

She let go of him and said breathlessly, "Well what will it be? We gave Percy an owl, but you've already got one, of course."

"W-what do you mean?" said Ron, looking as though he did not dare to believe his ears.

"You've got to have a reward for this!" said Mrs Weasley fondly. "How about a nice new set of dress robes?"

"We've already bought him some," said Fred, not that Mrs Weasley noticed.

"Or a new cauldron? Charlie's old one's rusting through, or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers-" Again, half the room froze, had she not believed Ron when he had told her that Scabbers was Pettigrew?

"Mum," said Ron and the hopefulness in his voice, touched something in Harry. It was the hope that just this once he would get something that was just for him, something the had never belonged to anyone else. It was a hope Harry knew very well. "Can I have a new broom?"

Mrs Weasley's face fell slightly, brooms were expensive.

"Not a really good one!" Ron hastened to add. "Just - just a new one for a change." Harry decided then and there that he would have a word to Sirius to see if they could contribute to broom.

Mrs Weasley hesitated, then smiled, "Of course you can…. well I'd better get going if I've got a broom to buy too. I'll see you all later…little Ronnie, a prefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks. A prefect! Oh I'm all of a dither."

Harry glanced quickly at Percival and with an incline of his head, indicated that he wanted a diversion.

"Um, Mrs Weasley," Percival spoke, distracting her from kissing Ron's face again, the red-head sighed in relief, earning a snicker from his siblings. "About the school things."

"Oh yes, if you can just get me the key to your vault, I'll look after it for you dear. I've already got Harry's."

Did she really expect him to just handover his key, and why on earth did she have Harry's? Instead of questioning her he said politely, "Oh no thank you. I just wanted to let you know not to worry about ours. You see when Professor Snape gent the list to Sirius the Harry and I ordered ours by owl. Our things arrived the other morning. So Harry would probably like his key back."

She frowned and looked at him closely, "I told Sirius that the list was wrong! Why would you order off it. Now I'll just have to get everything that was missed or incorrect. It was a complete waste of money!"

"Actually Mrs Weasley," Percival rebutted calmly. "I've already checked and the list was correct. And Harry's key?" he held out hi hand palm up.

She snorted this time saying derisively, "I'm not giving you Harry's key. Who knows what you would do with it. If he has all his books, which I doubt. Then I will return it to Professor Dumbledore where it belongs. Harry is much to young for the responsibility."

Well now wasn't that curious! And didn't it lead to a number of questions, like why the Headmaster should have Harry's key? He made a note have Harry write a letter to the Goblins to cancel that key and to check that any withdrawals for school were only for Harry's purchases.

"Don't you have your own key Hermione?" Percival turned to the witch. Who flushed under the scrutiny but reluctantly nodded. "So then why is it ok for Hermione to have her key and not Harry?"

"I'm not her Mother!" Mrs Weasley stated firmly, "and I don't get to make decisions for her otherwise, she would not yet have a key. None of my children received a key before they left home." Fortunately Fred and George were standing behind her so she couldn't see the shit-eating grins that swallowed their faces.

"It has already been established that you are not Harry's Mother either," Percival challenged.

"Be that as it may, this is a decision that has been made by his guardian!"

"I hardly think his Aunt would allow his finances to be in someone else hands. I gather that even in the Non-magical world that is not the done thing."

"His Aunt is not his guardian in the Magical world because she is just a Muggle!" Mrs Weasley screeched.

Percival realised that Mr Weasley had not been present after the trial when Dumbledore was told he was not nor had he ever been Harry's Guardian. Deciding that continuing to argue would give too much away, especially when the Goblins could just recall the key anyway, Percival changed tack. "So if No-Maj's can't be guardians, who is Hermione's guardian?"

The girl in question, as always had an answer, "Professor Dumbledore," here she puffed out her chest in pride. "In most cases, the Head of House takes on the duties of guardian for anyone who doesn't have one. However, Professor Dumbledore choose to take me on."

"Yes, well you are the brightest witch of your age," Mrs Weasley agreed, before Percival could point out the obvious hypocrisy. "Now be sure to pack while I'm gone. A prefect!" she finally bustled out of the room.

Not a minute later Harry slipped back in and sat on the desk. Looking at the three piles of clothes on the bed, he wondered, where Mrs Weasley thought he and Percival were sleeping.

"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice, cutting Hermione off as she opened her mouth.

"We could curtsey, if you like," said George, just as Hermione drew breath.

"Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at them.

"Or what?" said Fred, an evil grin spreading across his face, Hermione was turning red again, it seemed she had something to say and didn't appreciate being thwarted. "Going to put us in detention?"

"I'd love to see him try," sniggered George.

"He could if you don't watch out," Hermione snapped angrily.

Fred and George burst out laughing and Ron muttered "Drop it, Hermione."

"We're going to have to watch our step, George," said Fred, pretending to tremble. "With these two on our case…"

"Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over," said George, shaking his head. And with another loud crack, the twins disapparated.

"Those two!" said Hermione furiously, staring up at the ceiling, through which they could now hear Fred and George roaring with laughter in the room upstairs. "Don't pay any attention to them, Ron. They're only jealous!"

A snort from the other side of the room, drew her attention. Her brown eyes glared and Percival, "You have something to say?"

"It seems highly unlikely that those two have ever aspired to be prefects, therefore it is doubtful that they are," he answered as inoffensively as possible.

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "They always said only prats became prefects….. Still," he added on a happier note "they've never had new brooms! I wish I could go with Mum and choose….She'll never be able to afford a Nimbus, but there's a new clean sweep out, that'd be great…Yeah, I think I'll go and tell her I'd like the cleansweep, just so she knows….."

He dashed from the room leaving Harry, Percival and Hermione behind. Harry studiously avoided looking at Hermione, instead turning to pick over one of the piles of clothes, re-sorting them correctly.

"You!" Hermione spat at Percival. "How could you talk about Professor Dumbledore like that?"

He held up a hand forestalling the rant she was about to launch in to, "First of all even if Dumbledore…"

"Professor Dumbledore," she spoke over him sternly.

He continued ignoring the interruption, "were Harry's guardian he should be treating you both the same. It is also a safety concern that he has kept Harry's Gringotts key from him, one that the Goblins could take great offence to. If they were to find out they could freeze Harry's accounts. Meaning he would have no access to his vault until they change their minds."

Percival had been going to continue explain the foibles of Dumbledore but looking at the girl in front of him, her head was lifted as she looked at him down her nose with a scowl, he realised two things. The first being that she wasn't going to listen to him anyway, so any arguments were a waste of time. Secondly, there was every chance that she would be reporting back to Dumbledore and if that was the case he had already said too much. So he stopped.

Fortunately, Harry spoke in an attempt to break the tension, "Well congratulations on making Prefect Hermione. I'm going to pack. So Hermione, as I'm sure you don't want to see all of my undergarments, if you could please leave that would be great." Harry moved over to Ron's trunk and deposited the red-head's clothes inside.

She opened her mouth, but Harry began shoo'ing her out the door. Once the door was closed, Percival said, "You know for the someone who is allegedly the brightest witch of her age, she sure is dense at times."

Harry grinned and gestured to two remaining piles of clothes on the bed, "How she and Mrs Weasley haven't figured out that we don't sleep in this room anymore I'll never know."

"Ah, I spoke to Sirius about that, apparently he told them that he has been having Kreacher pop the extra beds in and out every morning and night, so that there is more space during the day."

"Poor Kreacher! All that extra work!" laughed Harry.

"Are you ok?" Percival asked Harry softly.

"With what?" Harry asked.

"With Ron being prefect? Everyone seemed surprised."

"Yeah. I …I don't know. I guess I was kind of upset and a bit jealous at first, just for a moment, but I spoke to Sirius about it when I went downstairs. Neither he nor my Dad were prefects, it was Remus and my Mum. Sure Ron and I have done everything together and my marks are a little better, but you know I think it means more to him then it would to me. He's always wanted to have the attention on him and I hate it. This lets him have that. Besides he'll have to go to meetings and do patrols. If I'm trying to catch up on Runes and Arithmancy, I'll probably have enough to be going on with, don't you think?" It was strange to think he really was ok with it. If he hadn't had Percival and Sirius around giving him the recognition he desired maybe he would have wanted it more and been jealous.

Percival crossed the room in three steps and wrapped his arms around Harry, resting his chin on the top of the shorter boy's head, "That is a very mature attitude and I'm proud of you." A warm feeling spread throughout Harry like the slow flow of Honey.

"I..I don't think anyone has been proud of me before," he sniffed. "At least not that they've ever told me."

"I'm sure they have, just they have never said it," Percival squeezed him tighter for a second before letting him go.

"Now we have a small problem," Harry huffed.

"Mmm?"

"If we walk passed the girls room on the way to ours, while carrying our clothes we'll give away that we aren't sleeping in here."

A bundle of clothes was pushed into his arms, and there was the warmth of Percival taking his hand, "Fortunately for you Harry. I remember how to apparate. Hold on this won't be pleasant!"

Harry gripped his hand tighter.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing that Percival did once the pair had appeared in their room, was to inform Harry of the conversation that he had missed while he had been talking to Sirius. Then he explained in minute why Dumbledore having his key was not an ideal situation. Harry confessed that Hagrid had taken it back from Griphook after taking him to Gringotts in first year and being thoroughly overwhelmed Harry hadn't noticed. He had only held his key between second and third year, when the Goblin on the carts had given it to him, while Mrs Weasley was distracted by visiting her own vault. Then at the start of third year it had mysteriously gone missing from his money pouch, he had meant to write to the Goblins about it but had forgotten in amongst the excitement of the start of the year and the terror of hearing there was a wanted criminal chasing him. He hadn't realised until fourth year when Mrs Weasley had collected his school things that she had held his key. Together they drafted a letter to Striknott and sent it through Harry's post-box. Not ten minutes later the button was glowing, indicating a reply. Harry was relieved to see it was not a howler.

Harry opened the box just a touch apprehensively and withdrew his Accountant's missive. As expected he was thoroughly scolded for being so careless with something so valuable (_and didn't he realise that giving someone his key was tantamount to giving them his vault! Just how would he have felt if someone had removed all of the family heirlooms that were stored in there? Hmmm? The bank wouldn't have been able to get them back if that was the case. Wasn't he lucky that while not being the sharpest tool in the shed, Hagrid was honest to a fault)_ and warned that should such an event happen again his accounts would be frozen and only accessible if he was in the company of his guardian as he would have clearly demonstrated his lack of maturity. It then went on to assure him that they had checked the tally's and since first year, the withdrawals matched the amounts he stated had been used, so despite having the key, Mrs Weasley had only used it for its intended purpose. Striknott promised that the key had been deactivated and so they could safely let Dumbledore have it as it would be of no use to him. A shiny new brass key also lay in the bottom of the box, it was attached to a silver chain, which Striknott said, came from the Potter vault. If he placed a single drop of blood on the clasp, and the key, then the key would return to him should it be lost or stolen, and he would be the only one able to remove the chain.

"That's a relief," Harry sighed, sliding the chain over his neck and falling back onto the bed. "I know we haven't been getting along, but I didn't think that she would steal from me."

Percival hummed noncommittally. It was funny after having been the head of Magical Security for so many years, he really wouldn't have been surprised if she had been stealing from Harry. Over the years he had seen it all. He was slightly concerned that his old memories seemed to be fading somewhat. _They'll never disappear- _the crotchety voice said. _They are just becoming less important to you. _Well that was reassuring at least.

"Perce…." Harry called softly to get his attention. "Do you think you could….um…would you mind…"

"Mind what Harry?" Percival looked at the younger boy who was fiddling with his chain.

"Well is there a spell so that no one else can see it?" Harry finally asked.

"There is. And I suppose you would like me to cast it on your chain?" he gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Or could you…maybe ..teach me how to do it?"

"Sure, let me do the chain to begin with then we'll practice on a few things. Like that new wand holster we bought you."

Percival reached out a hand and pulled Harry to his feet. "Now the trick here is that a simple charm, similar to the disillusionment charm, is easily overcome with a finite. So, this is the one I want you to practice. _Ab oculus abscondere." _He gently tapped his wand onto the key.

Harry looked down at his chest, "I can still…." he reached up a hand and curled his fingers round the key.

"Yeah, so can I, but I assure you no-one else can."

"Really?" Harry asked looking up at Percival, through his fringe, the amazement showing in his eyes. "I know I've been doing magic for a while, but every now and then it just…"

Percival's dark eyes softened, "Yeah, me too." He took a half pace forwards and lifted a hand to push the hair out of Harry's eyes. Harry tipped his head up to better look at the taller boy.

Hurried footsteps coming up the stairs caused the pair stepped apart quickly as Ron burst into the room.

"Just caught her!" he said happily, puffing slightly from running up the stairs. "She says she'll get the Cleansweep if she can."

"Cool," Harry said, pushing away the odd tension that had been developing, to focus on his internal grin at knowing that Sirius would badger Mrs Weasley into letting him pay at least half as a thank you for her contribution to the household, over the last few weeks. "Well done, mate." Harry slapped Ron's back and pulling the taller boy down beside him as he sat on the bed.

"I never thought it would be me," Ron said meekly. "I…I thought it would be you…"

Harry snorted, "The twins were right, I've caused too much trouble, besides can you see Snape allowing that? I believe all the Heads of House have input into the decision. To be honest I actually thought it might be Dean. He's quiet but gets similar marks to us in everything accept defence."

"Don't you think I deserve it?" Ron asked insecurely.

"That's not what I mean, Ron," Harry said firmly. "It's just you've been in most of the scrapes with me. To be honest after our arrival in second year, I didn't think either of us would get it. And of the others, Neville's too shy, and Seamus blows shit up all the time. Which don't get me wrong is an impressive talent all of its own but is probably not what they are looking for in a Prefect. So, while I'm a little surprised, I do think you deserve it and I am happy for you." It was that statement which finally allowed Ron to relax and enjoy the feeling of achievement.

"Harry," Percival said, looking over at the boy who was lying on the bed beside him lazily.

"Mmm."

"I never told you what I needed to tell you about Occlumency," there was something in his tone that made Harry, open his eyes and roll onto his eyes to look at Percival.

"No, we haven't really had much down time." Harry watched as Percival sat up.

"It's about the Horcrux. We've been practicing Occlumency, the whole point of which is to stop someone else from looking through your mind, the problem is…"

"He's already inside," Harry finished. "When I was building my defences, I found something…It's like a black oozy quick sand. I couldn't figure out what it was, until I noticed the feeling it gave me. It felt just like that diary. I've tried to build a wall around it but I'm afraid he will just be able to push up from underneath, so I've tried to hide my memories elsewhere. I've fenced that area in so I should get a warning if he breaks through."

"Oh."

"You sound surprised," Harry smiled.

"It's just that you haven't been exposed to things like this before."

"Yeah, well, some crazy bloke just came along, and he's been making me do horrible things like thinking."

"He sounds terrible," Percival smirked.

"Yeah, he is," Harry nodded solemnly, before a gentle smile crept across his features. "I suppose we should pack. If we aren't done by the time Mrs Weasley's back, we'll never hear the end of it."

It was odd how widely their possessions seemed to have scattered themselves since they had arrived. It took them most of the afternoon to retrieve all their books and belongings from all over the house and stow them back inside their school trunks. Harry chuckled when he noticed that Ron kept moving his prefects badge around, first placing it on his bedside table, then putting it into his jeans pocket, then taking it out and laying it on his folded robes, as though to see the effect of the red on the black. It was only when Fred and George dropped in and offered to attach it to his forehead with a Permanent Sticking charm that he wrapped it tenderly in his maroon socks and locked it in his trunk.

Seeing Ron's single compartment trunk Percival took pity on the boy and demonstrated the enlarging spell and as with Harry's trunk (this time using empty crates from the attic) created four removable compartments. Ron's eyes boggled at the amount of space, he now had. Unfortunately, Fred and George apparated into Ron's room just as Harry and Ron were practicing the spell on the last two crates (no one had yet checked the desk drawers to see the results of the mis-cast spell) and wanted to learn it too. Later they pulled Percival aside and got him to show them a couple of concealing spells and warding runes as well, which they engraved onto two of the boxes that they added to their trunks. Slapping him on the back they thanked him and then asked him to ensure that Harry's trunk had better protection on it than the usual automatic-locking charm. Percival glared at them as they disapparated. He had done that just yesterday, just because Harry was oblivious didn't mean he was. Fifteen-year olds couldn't have changed that much in the last seventy years, could they? He vividly remembered catching Dorinda McCarthey searching through his underwear after breaking into his trunk. That would not be happening to Harry!

Mrs Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around six o'clock, laden with books and carrying a long package wrapped in brown paper that Ron took from her with a moan of longing.

He frowned as he held it. The Cleansweep, if that was what she had purchased, was thirty-seven inches long and the longest of the brooms currently on the market. He was sure that this package was shorter than that. Both Nimbus's and the Firebolt were thirty-six inches but there was no way she would have been able to afford either. Maybe the Cleansweep had also been too much, his stomach dropped. How much was a Comet Two Ninety? It was thirty-five and a half inches and would probably have been cheaper. Still it was a reasonable broom, it could only reach sixty miles an hour, but it could turn on a sickle. Yes, that must be it, it would have been the cheapest option. Ron pushed away the slight sting of disappointment, after all it was still a new broom, and he didn't want to use all the money his parents had saved on a broomstick, that would be selfish. And the comet would be just fine for a keeper.

"Never mind unwrapping it now, people are arriving for dinner. I want you all downstairs," Mrs Weasley said, but the moment she had left the room Ron took a deep breath and started to rip aside the paper in a frenzy and before stopping abruptly. He tipped his head to the side in confusion.

"It…it…"

"I think he's broken Fred," said George, nudging his brother's shoulder.

"Easy to do," replied Fred. "I'll just fix him." He reached out a hand and slapped Ron in the back of his head. Ron's head tipped forward until his chin hit his chest.

"Owwww! What was that for?" Ron whined, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head.

"Going to show us your new broom?" George reached out to take the paper.

"It's a Nimbus 2001…" Ron said reverentially.

The twins' jaws hit the floor, "She'd never have been able to afford that!" Fred huffed.

Harry looked up, wondering if he should say something before the twins' jealousy turned to anger. "I think Sirius may have helped," he said quietly.

"But why would he help Ron!" George spat angrily.

"A lot of reasons," Harry spoke more firmly this time, bringing out the arguments he had used to persuade Sirius. "First he's my best friend. Second, he came with me to protect the Philosophers stone and he sacrificed himself so that I could continue on. Then he came with me to the Chamber of Secrets to help rescue Ginny, and while we got separated he kept digging at the rocks until a space was cleared for us to get back through. Lastly," Harry looked at them sternly, "it makes it fair."

"Oh," said George deflating slightly.

"Right you are," said Fred.

"Though other people should know that it wasn't expected that they advise the Goblins about such things…."

"What are you talking about Harry?" Ron asked.

"And Sirius might be interested in making a similarly valued contribution to the enterprise if it is required."

"Well, alright then," a completely mollified George agreed happily.

"Harry! What are you talking about?" Ron whined.

"Boys! Get down here now!" came a scream from the bottom of the house.

Harry grinned and bolted out the door.

"Harry!"

Downstairs in the basement Mrs Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over a heavily laden dinner table, which read:

_Congratulations_

_Ron and Hermione_

_New Prefects_

She looked in a better mood than Harry had seen her all holiday.

"I thought we'd have a little party, not a sit-down dinner," she told the teenagers as they entered the room. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron. I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled," she added, beaming.

Fred rolled his eyes, while George who was hidden from his Mother's view, pretended to vomit.

Sirius, Lupin, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there, and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after Harry had got himself a butterbeer.

"Oh Alastor, I'm glad you're here," said Mrs Weasley brightly as Mad-Eye shrugged off his travelling cloak. "I've been meaning to ask you for ages - could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us if there is anything inside it? I know the house got cleaned up, but I haven't wanted to open it in case there was something still in there."

Sirius smirked as Moody's electric blue eye swivelled upwards and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. One of these days the woman would listen to him. He had checked the desk himself and found nothing more than on old missive from his Mother to her lover, and hadn't that been an eye opener! He had of course then refilled the drawers with stationary.

"Drawing room…" the auror growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah I see it…..three quills….14 sheets of parchment…..two ink pots… a wax seal with the Black shield on it…..another with the Potter shield…..four sticks of wax in midnight blue…"

"And a fwooper in a pear tree…" the twins began to sing.

"Shut up," snapped their Mother.

"and a deck of cards, with pictures of indecently dressed ladies on the front." Moody finished, Mrs Weasley seemed slightly disappointed. "If there was a Boggart in there it might have moved somewhere else in the house. Do you want me to look for it? Tonks and I can investigate after dinner?"

Mrs Weasley grimaced as she imagined Mad-Eye conducting a search through the house, which was already in a state due to the children's school preparations, "No, no I'll do it myself later," she tried to arrange her features into a beaming smile. Harry thought she looked constipated. "You have a drink. We're having a little celebration, actually….." she gestured to the banner. "Fourth Prefect in the family," she said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair.

"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swivelling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and he moved away to where Sirius was standing near Lupin.

"Well, congratulations," Moody continued, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye. "Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you…."

Percival, who was standing near Harry, grunted at the Auror's words and muttered "that's one way of looking at it."

Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his Father and eldest brother. Mrs Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had bought Mundungus Fletcher with them. Though Harry did see Sirius did pull his wand and cast a monitoring spell on the man, it would alarm should the thief attempt to steal anything.

"Well I think a toast is in order," said Mr Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet and opened his mouth to speak, "…"

"Thank you, Arthur," Sirius stepped forward and raised his glass. "Ron and Hermione, being a prefect is a great responsibility, that I am sure you will both live up to. You will need to be a friendly and accessible role model for the younger students. Guiding them through their formative years. Some," he nodded at the twins, "will provide you with challenges, may you meet them with grace. To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor Prefects may Magic's Blessings be on you. Oh, and if you want advice, that's Remus' job because neither your parents nor I were Prefects," he finished cheekily, and downed his drink. Arthur just grinned while Molly scowled.

Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them and then applauded.

Sirius moved to place his glass down on the kitchen bench and Harry realised that for the first time he was standing alone with Professor Lupin.

"Harry," his old Professor started.

"You were Prefect then," Harry cut across him hurriedly. Percival leaned against the fireplace behind them, monitoring the situation.

"Yes….yes I was," the werewolf acknowledged awkwardly.

"I was never prefect myself," said Tonks loudly approaching the group from the side. Harry had never been so grateful for an interruption in his life. Today the metamorph's hair was tomato red and waist-length, she looked like she could have been Ginny's older sister. "My Head of House said I lacked the necessary qualities," she winked at Harry.

"Like what?" said Ginny who had been listening in from where she was standing near the table, choosing a baked potato.

"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks.

Ginny laughed; Hermione who was standing at the table next to the youngest Weasley, looked like she didn't know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking a large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.

"What about Harry's Mum?" Ginny asked Remus.

"Yeah, Lily was," he nodded.

"She must have stuck to the rules and studied hard then? I bet she listened to the teachers," Hermione asked, giving the werewolf a pointed look.

"For the most part, though she wasn't afraid to step outside the rules if she felt the situation warranted it," Remus answered much to Hermione's obvious disappointment. He then launched into a story about Lily, stopping a group of Slytherins from attacking a lone Hufflepuff third year in the library, by using Wingardium Leviosa to tie their shoe laces together.

Harry slipped away into the parlour at the end of the story. It was funny, he had waited for years to be told more stories about his parents and the first one that Lupin spilt, was at the behest of Hermione and in front of a group of his friends. He felt a little silly, but he had wanted that moment to be one that was just for him. Quite frankly he was more than a little jealous and he knew it.

Noise drifted up the stairs and in through the open door, Harry registered Ron talking about the flight statistics of his new broom, Bill and Mrs Weasley were arguing over Bill's lack if haircut and Hermione was trying to get Lupin to talk to Harry about his study habits. Why couldn't she just let things be? With a sigh he flopped into the arm chair and drew his feet up onto the seat, wrapping his arm around his knees. A minute later Fred and George tumbled into the room followed by Mundungus Fletcher.

"It's ok," Fred said as he saw that the room was already occupied, "we can trust Harry he is our financial backer.

"Look what Dung's got us," said George, holding out his hand to Harry. It was full of what looked like shrivelled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary. "Venomous Tentacula seeds. We need them for the skiving snack boxes but they're a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance, so we've been having trouble getting hold of them."

Harry wondered if Snape was planning on using Dung to sell of the Basilisk parts, assuming they were still usable. He hoped that the Potions Master had a more reliable contact.

"Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung," said Fred.

"Wiv all the trouble I went to get 'em?" said Mundungus, his saggy, bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. "I'm sorry lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty."

"Dung likes his little joke," Fred said to Harry.

"Yeah, his best one so far has been six sickles for a bag of Knarl quills," said George.

"Be careful," Harry warned them quietly upon hearing a thump from down stairs.

"What?" said Fred. "Mum's busy cooing over Prefect Ron, we're Ok."

"But Moody could have his eye on you right now," Harry pointed down at the floor.

Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder at the open door. "Good point that," he grunted. "All right lads, ten it is, if you'll take 'em quick."

"Cheers Harry," said Fred delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands and scuttled off down the stairs in search of more food. "We'd better get these upstairs…"

Harry watched them go, he felt slightly uneasy about helping them purchase such things, especially as he knew that Mrs Weasley would most certainly disapprove. However, he was sure that they wouldn't do anything truly dangerous with them, and honestly with Riddle around, well they all needed a bit of a laugh. Besides Percival had pointed them in the direction of several creations that would be great for defence and they had to start somewhere. It was inevitable that Mrs Weasley would find out that Harry had given them their start-up money and when she did she would not be pleased. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, it didn't really matter after all, the twins were adults and Mrs Weasley was not his Mother.

Leaning back in his chair Harry closed his eyes and spent a few moments trying to meditate, until he caught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice, emerged from the stairwell rising above the rest of the chatter from the floor below asking why Harry hadn't been made prefect and he snorted. It seemed like everyone else cared more about it then he did.

"You all right there Potter?" grunted Moody, entering the room.

"Yeah, fine," well what else could Harry say.

Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue eye staring sideways at Harry.

"I noticed you wandered off after Lupin's story." Harry hummed. "Sit up, I've got something that might interest you," he said.

Harry twisted in the chair, put his feet on the floor and looked over. From the inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old wizarding photograph.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night while I was looking for my spare invisibility cloak, seeing as some bugger seems to have lost my best one…..thought people might like to see it."

Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back at him. Harry stared hungrily. There in the front row were two people he wished more than anything he could see for real. The echo that was produced in the graveyard that few months ago was a cruel reflection of them and he tried not to dwell on it, apart from acknowledging that his parents loved him and had tried to protect him even in death.

The Moody in the picture was unmistakeable, though his hair was slightly less grey and his nose still intact. Sirius stood with his arm round an attractive brunette.

"That was Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. Voldemort himself killed her," Moody said when he noticed where Harry was looking.

"Sirius…" Harry didn't ask but Moody answered anyway.

"Yeah, they were engaged. She'd been the only one to manage to get him to settle down. He received the alarm that her house had been attacked and went straight there without waiting for back up. Idiot boy. They reckon he saw her body and magic just exploded out of him. Spent four weeks in Mungos. After that he became more ruthless, he didn't always abide by Dumbledore's ridiculous order not to harm the Death Eaters."

"But what if they're firing curses that would kill you, like a blasting curse and you block them it. The block would bust apart and they might get hurt or even killed by the shrapnel?"

Moody grimaced, "Dumbledore, would look down at you over his glasses, shake his ridiculously long beard and tut in disappointment, before going into his lecture about the sanctity of life."

"Sound like you might have been on the receiving end of it a time or two." Moody grunted. "This lady looks like Neville, is that his Mum?" Harry asked, pointing at a figure in the back row.

"Aye, and that beside her is Frank, poor devils," growled Moody.

Moody continued pointing out the people in the photograph and explaining how they had died. It was a rather grim conversation and one that Harry wasn't quite sure he wanted to participate in. Though he did appreciate that Moody gave him a copy of the photo.

"Why are you showing me this Professor?"

"Not a professor! That was a ridiculous notion. I'm an old man Potter," he huffed. "Never married, only family was my sister who passed away last year. This man," here he pointed to Harry's Father, "And that brat with the multicoloured hair downstairs are the closest I'll ever get to children. Regardless of what happens Harry, you can count me to be on your side. I didn't know Lily had a sister, and I placed too much trust in Albus! Which I regret." He huffed again. "Bloody imbecile, didn't even pick up that man wasn't me! We've ruddy well known each other nigh on seventy years! Some friend."

"Yeah? Thanks…." Harry blinked away the emotion he was feeling. "Say Prof…." Harry gave in to Moody's glare, "ah….Moody. Did you know them well? My parents that is?" it came out in a rush in the end.

"Aye, your Dad more than your Mum."

"Do you think…..would you mind…. telling me, or even writing…. some of the things that you remember about them?" he turned hopeful green eyes up to look at the gnarled man. "The only memory I've got is the night they died."

Moody froze, "Yeah," he swallowed roughly. "I reckon I can do that for you lad," he answered gruffly, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "I need a fire whiskey…" he muttered as he stuffed the photo back into his robe pocket.

Harry watched Moody stomp back out the door and listened to his footsteps slowly fade as he descended the stairs. Curling back in on himself Harry rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes. He wondered how long he needed to wait before he could make his way up to bed. More than anything he longed for the peace and quiet that the room offered, and maybe Perc…..

"Harry?" Remus enquired as he entered the room, gently pulling the door closed. "Um, I know it might be disappointing not to be Prefect, but your Father wasn't, and he still managed to be Head Boy. I'm sure that Alb….."

Harry raised his head and stared at the werewolf, with glittering green eyes full of anger, causing him to pause. "What makes you think that I wanted it?" Harry asked.

"Well you're up here hiding away while everyone else is down there celebrating."

"Oh, I see. So, the fact that after my Dad's best friend tells a story about my Mother for the first time, I want to spend a couple of moments sitting quietly by myself. Is reflective of me being jealous of my best mate, for getting some attention for himself for once. Interesting…."

"That's not what I….."

"Do you even know me at all Mr Lupin?"

"Harry call me Remus, or Mooney."

"Why should I? I don't know you and you obviously don't know me."

"I was one of your Dad's best friends."

"Really, that's nice. Mr Lupin where were you when I was being stuffed in a cupboard?"

"I was suffering too Harry, you have to believe me. I believed three of my friends had died, and the other had betrayed us. Wolves don't understand betrayal Harry. I fell apart."

"My parents had died Mr Lupin, and then after spending a night out on the porch, wrapped in a light blanket, I was shoved in a cupboard on a cold floor and starved. It was dark, lonely and cold _and _I was fifteen months old. I didn't understand what was going on. But I guess, it must have been harder for you, seeing as you were an adult! And clearly that made it much more difficult for you to process the loss. Clearly I was the one who was better off!" Harry spat.

"Harry, that's not…"

"I don't want excuses Lupin. I needed you and you weren't there. Sirius needed you and you weren't there. I know there are other issues there, but you didn't even try to help him or find me…"

"I did….I did…." Remus protested in desperately. "Once the Aurors left I searched the house and pulled out the things I knew that you would want. Things that Lily and James would have wanted preserved and I took them to Gringotts for the Goblins to put away for you. Just ask them they'll tell you. Then I went and saw Albus and asked to be told where you were. Being what I am, I knew that the Wizengamot would never allow me to look after you, but I thought I could visit. He…." Remus stalled in the face of Harry's glare. "I know that it wasn't the best decision now, but at the time, Harry he had always held all the answers for me. So, when he told me that you were safe and protected. I was reassured and I….I allowed myself to grieve. I went feral and it took two whole years before I returned to myself. That first day, I cleaned myself up and went to Albus again demanding to be allowed to see you. I argued that Lily and James would have wanted it. He told me that your guardians were looking after you well and didn't want you to have contact with the Wizarding world just yet. That it was far too dangerous to expose you to a dangerous creature such as I am. I asked to be allowed to send presents and write, Albus said I didn't need the address for that, so I did. I never got a reply."

"I never received any letters from anyone before my Hogwarts letter," Harry said quietly. "Why didn't you tell me about my parents when you were at Hogwarts."

"Albus said that I could only have a professional teacher- student relationship with you. I couldn't show you any preference or meet you outside of lessons. It was actually written into my contract. I was cutting it fine with the patronus training and some of the things that I said. I believe it is in several of the other teacher's contracts as well. By the time he offered the contract I was desperate Harry. I've never had much money just enough to get by, but I had been unable to find work for months. I didn't read the contract before I signed it, I trusted Albus to look out for me."

"What did he tie the contract too?"

"My magic," Remus lowered his head.

"What would have happened if you lost your magic?"

"I'm a werewolf Harry. There's a reason why Muggles don't become werewolves, magic is needed to survive the curse. If I lose my magic, I will die in the first transformation that I had after it happens."

"Oh," Harry thought for a moment. "Why didn't you write during the tournament."

"I tried again Harry. That was when I started to suspect that my letters weren't getting through, so I went to Albus again and asked if I could have your address to visit, now that you knew me."

Harry snorted, "Let me guess…"

Remus nodded, "yeah, he turned me down again. He said that you needed space to process what you had been through at the end of the Tournament. I'm sorry that I believed him. He said that your Aunt looked after you well. it was at that point, I put it together and realised that you were at Petunia's. I had come here to let Sirius know I had figured out where you were and was going to visit you, when we received the advice about your warning from the ministry."

Still scowling Harry hugged his legs tighter, shoulder slightly towards Remus, "You know," he paused for a moment wondering if he should say anything. Still he might as well get everything of his chest all at once. "You know, it might have been nice if ….I would have liked to hear the first story that you told me about my Mother privately and not in response to something one of my…friends had asked."

"Oh," Remus said. "So that's the reason that….." he waved his hand around the room.

Twisting further away, Harry, leant his head against the chair so that his face couldn't be seen.

"I'm sorry Harry, I didn't think…."

"Seems to be a lot of that going around."

"Yeah, there does," Remus agreed. "Albus has been the leader we've all followed for so long, that somewhere along the way we've forgotten to think for ourselves. And you've paid the price. Be honest with me Harry, were the Dursley's really all that….."

The boy leapt to his feet and faced the man fists clenched tight in anger, "why is my word not good enough for you. What will it take for you to believe? You've just as good as admitted that Dumbledore doesn't know anything and then in the very next breath you accuse me of lying!"

Arms raised, plans forward in surrender, Remus tried to explain, "No Harry, that's not what I…"

"Then what did you mean Lupin?"

"My family, they didn't cope well when I became a werewolf, they didn't love me and nurture me. My Mother in particular was afraid and my Father, well I think he felt guilty every time he looked at me, so he pushed me away. I was wondering if that was what your experiences were. Albus promised that you were never beaten or abused."

The sneer that slid onto Harry's face was worthy of Snape, he turned his back on the werewolf and grasped the hem of his shirt ripping it off over his head exposing his naked back and the pale criss-crossed lines on it, standing out starkly, highlighted by his still prominent ribs. There was a gasp behind him, that definitely didn't come from Lupin. Harry flipped around again, holding his shirt up in front of his body.

Mrs Weasley was standing in the doorway with her hand still on the doorknob.

"Oh Harry!" her hand came up to cover her mouth, "Ginny didn't lie," she whispered, before shaking her head. "Let me look and see if there's anything that can be done," she transitioned from shocked observer to caring Mother in a heartbeat.

Harry backed away shaking his head, he hadn't meant for anyone else to see, sure Percival knew but that was Percival, which made all the difference in the world, "It's ok Mrs Weasley. They're old, I doubt there's anything…"

"Nonsense," she clucked at him. "If I can't do anything then I will have a word with Severus."

"No!" Harry jerkily pulled his shirt back on. "No! I don't want anyone else to know!"

"But we can help," she coaxed.

Distrust in his eyes he asked, "why would you help me now?"

"Because I was wrong to dismiss the things I was told, and I am an adult. If you won't let me tell Severus, let me tell Sirius, he'll have enough scars from Azkaban that he could probably do with the same treatment."

Someone was taking the stairs two steps at a time, as Harry's body began shaking out of his control. He didn't like this, he didn't want anyone to know! It was mortifying that he had allowed this to happen to himself, that for all his magic he couldn't stop it. Logically he knew it wasn't like that. Aunt Sera and Sirius already knew what had happened, but they hadn't seen the scars. Only Healer Addison, Percival and Ginny (though he didn't want to think about that) had. That was still too many. There was no noise, only his stream of consciousness. Every feeling amplified. He wanted to vomit! His chest felt like it was weighed down by bricks, every breath coming in a gasp of monumental effort.

Warm arms encircled him, and a hand firmly grasped the back of his head, tucking his head under their chin, with his face into their neck. He took a breath in…..Perce! Oh! thank the Gods Perce was here! Hearing returned.

"It's alright, they haven't seen anything that they didn't already know about. It's not ideal and it's not what you wanted but it will be ok." The hand moved in a circular pattern on his back spreading its warmth. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm a freak!" Harry whispered.

"No!" the calm voice suddenly went gruff, and Harry shrank into himself. "Don't speak about yourself that way. You are a survivor. You are strong. Those scars show that. The only reason I hadn't mentioned a potion to try and get rid of them yet, is because they don't change who you are, and I didn't think you were ready to talk about them just yet. I thought when you got to that point Addison would help."

"I deserved it! They didn't ask to have me dumped on them! Destroying their perfectly normal lives." The arms around him tightened.

"You didn't deserve it, it should never have happened to you. Nothing you did caused it. Petunia knows it! She was trying to make up for it. Dudley's learning to do better. And Vernon's just a pig! You are wonderful Harry. In all my life I have never met a soul as beautiful as you."

Harry broke into a million pieces.

Perce looked up and around the room, noting that Remus and Mrs Weasley had left, pulling the door closed behind them. Scooping Harry up with an arm under his knees and the other behind his back, he made his way over to the couch. The boy was still too damn light!

It took several long minutes for Harry to calm. Percival sat with the other boy in his lap, continuing the flow of verbal reassurance, as he reflected that perhaps Harry's break-down was overdue. Sure, in the three weeks they had been at Grimmauld, he'd had the flashback in Gringotts and the other after the fight with Mrs Weasley, but there had been so many shocks, challenges and confronting situations. Really it was amazing that Harry hadn't had a magical outburst from the stress, or spontaneously combusted in anger. Finally, he looked down at Harry who had his hands fisted around the edges of Percival's robes, face pale and tear stained, eyes red. It was truly heart-breaking. He lifted a hand to wipe away the last tear that was rolling down that pale cheek.

The door slammed open, making them both jump. Percival had drawn his wand and had it pointed at the doorway in less than a second.

"Harry!" Hermione barged into the room. Percival lowered his wand tip. "We need to talk about your homework situation. I know that you said that you had it all done, but I really need to check on it before we get back to Hogwarts. _If_ you've done it by yourself it's guaranteed to be all wrong. Don't be expecting that I'll look over it for you on the train, if that was your plan. I'll be too busy with Prefects duties and then where will you be. I know you said you didn't want any help, but I've decided to be generous and offer you a last chance. You know you won't be able to get it done without me, so if you apologise now all will be forgiven and we can deal with it tonight," she hadn't seemed to take a breath as she spat out her words, nor had she noticed that the boys were staring at her in shock.

"Harry! This is your last chance," she clicked her fingers sharply twice, then blinked and seemed to take in the room for the first time, still not registering Percival's wand, which was still in his hand, as a threat. "What on earth are you doing? Harry, get off him at once! I can't cover this up Harry. I'm going to have to tell Ginny. I know you like her and she is expecting you to ask her on a date by the end of the year, around Valentine's day should be good, if you can wait that long. She won't take kindly to this. If you come with me now and confess to her yourself, you've got the best chance of gaining her forgiveness…."

As she drew breath to continue her rant, Percival spoke, "Get. Out. Granger! Harry has as much desire to date Ginny as you have of failing Arithmancy."

She glared down at him, "What would you know? You've only been here half a minute. I know your type! The minute you get the opportunity you'll betray Harry and be laughing behind his back. Come on Harry," clearly she thought she was coaxing him gently, but it came across as more of an order. "Get away from him, I know you don't like boys that way and you don't want to spoil things with Ginny, do you? You know it'll make everyone happy if you two go out, it'll by just like your parents!"

Zing.

"Ouch!" Percival's stinging hex, hit her outstretched hand. "What did you do that for?! You're a barbarian! See Harry! He's violent! He's no good for you. He just…."

"Get. Out," Percival repeated, wand still pointing at the girl.

"I will not until you un-hand my friend!" she stomped her foot.

Harry raised a hand, (Woosh. Thud.) and banished Hermione from the room, slamming the door closed. He buried his face back into Percival's collar and couldn't suppress a hysterical giggle.

"She just doesn't shut up!" he said when he was back in control. "I thought you were very controlled. After all I'm sure you have lots of Auror grade spells you could have used." He giggled again.

Percival hugged the smaller boy tighter just for a moment, then pulled back so he could look into the green eyes, "Yes there are but I didn't think any of them were appropriate. You're getting better at your wandless magic too."

Harry snuggled into his chest for a moment then groaned, "You're very comfortable you kinow, but I guess she had a point. It probably isn't appropriate for me to…."

"Apart from the fact that your backside, feels like it's made from Goblin steel daggers, why isn't it appropriate?"

Harry wiggled a little at that just to make Percival wince, before he spoke, "You're….you're …not…I'm not…at least I don't think I…" his cheeks turned pink.

Percival slid his wand away and raised his hand to cup Harry's cheek, "It doesn't need to be defined. What you are, what I am. What matters is what we feel. And I feel that this is ok. It's right. Though you might want to stop wiggling so much," he added voice tightening.

"But only guys who are…"

Percival ran his thumb across Harry's bottom lip to silence him and shook his head, "Does it matter if you are a guy who like other guys Harry?"

Harry hadn't thought about it really, he'd always just assumed that he liked girls because that was normal, wasn't it? But maybe he did. Certainly being around Percival made him feel….something. So, what if he did? Was that a problem? From what Percival was saying it sounded like it didn't really matter in the Wizarding world. However, in certain circles it did in the Muggle one. Internally he cringed, Aunt Petunia probably wouldn't like it, well old Aunt Petunia wouldn't have. Uncle Vernon definitely had views on the matter, if his muttering about the 'pansy's' who acted in the local theatre group was any type of indication. What about Ron?

"Talk to me Harry?" Percival enquired. "Where have your thoughts gone?"

"I don't know what I am. And I wonder what the Muggles will think, and the Weasleys. Is it ok in the Wizarding world to be….whatever?"

Percival smiled gently, "Back in my day, yeah it was. These things weren't talked about as such as the whole subject was more taboo then it is now. No-one ever knew what anyone else's preferences were. I guess the only way we will find out what people think is by talking to them. Though I don't suggest writing it in a letter to your Aunt, because we both know that your Uncle will only approve of Heteronormative relationships."

Harry relaxed against Percival once more, before sighing, "I suppose we should go up to bed now anyway."

Despite a night full of dreams of the deaths of his parents and Hermione turning into the monster book of monsters and chasing him around a room he couldn't escape from, Harry woke feeling reasonably refreshed. Hedwig hooted at him from where she was perched on the back rest of his bed.

"Morning Hedwig," he reached out a finger and ran it down her chest gently.

She nipped at his finger lightly, with no intention of harm and fluttered her wings. It was a big day today; her boy would be making his way to that enormous cold nest. Usually she would sit in her cage for the journey but this year, having had a taste of freedom himself, he hadn't had the heart to confine her. It always worried her when he was out of her sight. The journey took several hours this was the first time she would be separate from him. Hedwig let out a hoot of annoyance. Perhaps this year she would sneak into his nest in the sky. Surely his clever new nest mate would find a way to let her in.

"I don't like the idea of you travelling in you cage Hedwig. I hope you don't mind flying to Hogwarts. It's just it's such a long way and I worry about you," he voiced his fear.

She chirruped her agreement. Yes, he was good her wizard. He knew she didn't like to feel trapped. After all the time that they had both been locked in, he understood. Maybe she would peck at the older wizard that seemed to care about her boy until he gave her a letter to take, so that he had something to greet him when he arrived. She ruffled her feathers, yes that was an excellent idea.

There was a sharp rapping on the door, "Harry, you had better get up. Mrs Weasley is going ballistic saying that you are all going to miss the train if you don't hurry."

Harry blinked, had they slept in! He glanced over to where Percival was just pushing himself off the camp bed.

"Harry, when you're dressed I've got something I want to give you before you go."

Hedwig bobbed her head and cooed in contentment. It was a relief to know that she wasn't the only one looking after her boy anymore.

A quick shower later, and Harry left Percival shrinking their trunks so that he could meet Sirius in the library.

"I ….I was thinking Harry," Sirius started. "At first, I wanted to go with you to the train, as Padfoot. You've never had someone to see you off before, but I ….when I thought about it, it's not a wise idea. The rat could have told anyone that I'm an animagus, there is a part of me would be happy with the risk…but, I also thought about what you were saying when you first arrived. So, I hope you won't be too disappointed if I don't go," he grimaced.

Harry took a couple of stumbling steps over to his Godfather, "I'd have loved you to be there, Padfoot but you're right. It would be worse if something happened to you. I don't think I would ever recover from it. Especially seeing as you're so close to being free, Madame Bones is investigating, and you should hear about a trial date soon. McMillan said he'd know something by the second week of school. Thank you for not rushing in."

"It got me thinking as well. Your Father and I, we found these in a second-hand shop when we were in sixth year and bought them, so we could talk to each other whenever we had detention. I'd hidden them in my old flat. Kreacher went and got them for me as soon as I remembered. Luckily no-one had discovered them in the meantime." He held out one of a matching pair of ornate silver hand mirrors, Harry took it carefully. "All you have to do is say my name…."

"Sirius," Harry said quickly.

"And it will vibrate," finished Sirius, glancing into the buzzing piece of glass he held.

Harry looked into his mirror to see his Godfather staring back at him.

"This way we'll be able to talk, without sending owls. The things that the ministry was saying about you at the start of the summer concerned me. I wouldn't put it past them to have someone at Hogwarts, besides I've just gotten used to having you around. I'll want to know what you are up to. And you can keep talking to Healer Addison when I go to see him."

"Is Aunt Sera going to stay around even though we are heading to Hogwarts?" Harry wondered how Sirius was going to arrange to meet Addison.

"She'll be here for the next week, but she has told me she has to make a trip back to the States for a couple of charity events. She should return around Halloween. I'll schedule my visits around her." He wrapped Harry in a tight hug. "Go on. You had better finish getting ready before Molly blows her top."

Noise was the first thing they noticed as they stepped out of the parlour, both Mrs Black and Mrs Weasley were screaming at the top of their lungs. Percival was standing in the kitchen and handed Harry a couple of slices of buttered toast.

"I meant to do something about that portrait, but I forgot," the American whispered.

"You'll get another chance at Christmas time. I wonder if she is really that bad, or if being trapped in the house with the….well you know…. affected her portrait."

"Hmmm," Percival, grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him to the entryway. He examined the portrait while they waited, but couldn't see anything overtly affecting the painting. He'd have to wait for a better opportunity for a more in-depth look. It wasn't long before all the teens had gathered in the entryway, with their school trunks.

"What are we waiting for?" Fred asked as he stood on Ginny's toes for the third time, due to the overcrowding, she elbowed him in the ribs in retaliation.

"We're waiting for the guard to arrive," Mrs Weasley said.

"Why do we need a guard to go to the platform?" George asked.

"Not you, Harry!" Mrs Weasley huffed.

There was a knock on the door, opening it revealed a smiling Tonks.

"Right Harry, you, Percival and Ron are with me and Tonks, Hermione and Ginny you're with Remus and Kingsley, Fred and George you help Alastor with the trunks," Mrs Weasley ordered. She quickly counted and then shook her head. "Which pair of you hasn't bought their trunks down, two are missing."

"It's alright, Mrs Weasley," Percival said respectfully. "I asked Kreacher to shrink ours, so Harry and I are all sorted." He tapped his pocket.

"Oh," she blinked at him. "That's actually rather…"

"It's slavery, that's what it is!" a piercing voice interrupted causing the twins to roll their eyes. "Harry, I am so disappointed in you, after all that work we did last year on SPEW…"

"Sensible," Alastor's gruff voice cut across the diatribe. He pulled his wand and promptly shrunk all of the trunks giving them back to their owners. "Now, if we're ready?" His magical eye swivelled around to glare at them all.

Mrs Weasley pulled open the door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight.

"Are we, walking to the station?" Harry asked. "Isn't that a bit…..?" He looked at Percival in confusion.

The Weasley matriarch stopped and turned to look at the group who were staring at her curiously, "Well the ministry hasn't provided cars this year, come on!"

"Why not apparate?" Fred asked.

"That's alright for you, but not for the others and you can only take one person along sidealong. We'd have to be apparating all over the place and there would be no-one to keep an eye on you while we popped back to get the rest."

"I can do two," Tonks said, "As can Moody, Fred and George can take themselves. So, Percival and Harry with me, Ron with you, Hermione and Ginny with Alastor, and Fred and George can meet us there. It'll literally be a one-hop stop."

"Well….. I suppose, but Dumbledore….." she seemed a bit flustered.

"While we could all probably use the exercise," Percival said politely, "I think perhaps the Headmaster has been a little too busy to think about the logistics of the operation and this will save us time. Aunt Sera was saying that there is an apparition point just outside the station beside the cafe'. If we go now, we can stop in and grab something to eat for the train. Have you got your Muggle money Harry?"

Harry stuck a hand in his pocket and drew out his velvet money bag, "I'm sure I had a couple of twenty-pound notes in here somewhere." He reached in and grabbed the note he could now feel and pulled it out. "Yup."

"Oh, alright then…." Mrs Weasley seemed a little deflated.

"Do you boys know where it is?" Tonks asked.

The twins just grinned and disapparated.

"Oi! Harry," called a tall boy with dreadlocks as he and Percival emerged onto Platform nine and three quarters. "Who's your friend."

"Hey Lee, this is Percival Graves. Percival this is Lee Jordan, best mate to Fred and George," he introduced as they moved away from the entrance to allow space for Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Hermione.

Lee looked over at the group, "Are Fred and George…never mind there they are. See ya Harry." He sauntered over to join his friends.

"Well," said Fred, clapping his hands together, "can't stand around chatting all day. we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you later." After a quick goodbye to their Mother, they each threw an arm around Lee's shoulders and heads together speaking very quickly they made their way onto the train.

"I guess we had best find a compartment as well," Harry said. "Thanks for everything Mrs Weasley, if you could pass the message onto the others that would be appreciated."

"Thank you," Percival echoed.

She gave them all one last hug before shoo'ing them away.

"Right where do you want to sit?" Harry asked as they boarded the train.

Ron and Hermione shared a glance.

"Well Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect's carriage," Hermione said pompously.

"Yeah, I know. I just thought you might have wanted to sit with us when you were done, but if you don't…" Harry shrugged one shoulder, resulting in Percival's hand reaching out to press it down again.

"Get the usual one Harry, and if you can't we'll come find you. I spoke to Bill, we'll have to do a patrol at some point, so if we haven't found you before that, we'll find you then."

"We might have to stay in the Prefects carriage for the whole journey Ronald, the letter from the Head Boy and Girl wasn't very clear. I'm not going to let you shirk your responsibilities! Especially not on the first day," she began another rant, which Ron ignored as he manoeuvred her in the direction of the other Prefects. Quite frankly Harry was impressed with how tolerant the red-head was being, and once again felt relief that it wasn't him.

"Maybe we should have wished him luck?" Percival mused watching them go.

"Come on," Ginny said.

As they walked passed compartments that were already full, Harry couldn't help but notice that a lot of people stared at him with great interest and several pointed him out to their neighbours. In front of the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Harry's fellow fifth year, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.

"Hi Harry," he panted. "Hi Ginny….everywhere's full…I can't find a seat…"

"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here -"

Harry frowned, "Who names their child Loony?"

Ginny giggled, "Don't be silly Harry, her name is Luna, she's just a bit crazy is all."

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone, but Ginny was already sliding open the door. "Don't be silly, she's alright. Hi Luna, is it ok if we take these seats?"

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry thought she reminded him of someone from the photo album Hagrid had made for him in first year and made a mental note to check. The girl gave off the distinct aura of dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace made of butterbeer corks, or that she was reading her magazine upside-down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest of Harry. She nodded.

"Thanks," said Ginny smiling at her.

Harry shrunk Neville's trunk for him so that he could stow it in his pocket.

"Had a good summer Luna," Ginny asked.

"Yes," said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes of Harry. Which Percival found slightly disconcerting. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she pronounced.

"I know I am," said Harry.

Luna turned her eyes on Percival, "And you are …interesting…..the original Percival Graves."

"Was my Great Uncle," Percival said firmly. Yes, she was a very disconcerting individual.

With a slow blink, she turned to stare at Neville instead.

"And I don't know who you are."

"I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly.

"No you're not!" Harry and Ginny said sharply at the same time.

"Neville Longbottom - Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw," said Ginny.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a sing-song voice.

She raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent.

The train rattled onwards, speeding them out into the open country. It was an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously grey clouds.

"Guess what I got for my birthday?" said Neville.

"Another Remembrall? said Harry, remembering the marble like device Neville's Grandmother had given him in first year.

"No, though maybe it would help. I lost the old one ages ago….no look at this…"

He dug the hand that was not keeping a firm grip on Trevor into his schoolbag and after a little bit of rummaging around, during which Percival took Trevor and transfigured him a terrarium from the handkerchief he carried in his pocket, Neville pulled out what appeared to be a small grey cactus in a pot, except that it was covered with what looked like boils rather than spines.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," he said proudly.

Harry stared at the thing. It was pulsating sightly, giving it the rather sinister look of some diseased internal organ. A sudden premonition, had Harry cringing, this was not going to end well.

He tuned back in just as Neville was saying, "My Great Uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."

"Does it do anything?" Harry asked.

"Loads of stuff!" said Neville proudly. "It's got an amazing defensive mechanism."

He drew a quill from his school bag, Luna's eyes appeared over the top of her magazine again, to watch what Neville was doing. Neville held the cactus up to his eyes, his tongue between his teeth he chose a spot and gave it a sharp prod.

Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant, thick, stinking dark green jets of it. They hit the ceiling, the floors, the windows and splattered the front of Luna's magazine which she had quickly raised to cover her face. Ginny who had flung her arms up just in time, merely looked as if she was wearing a slimy green hat. Percival had managed to cast a shielding charm in front of himself and Harry, protecting them both, though they did have the goo, dripping off the ceiling onto them. It smelled like rancid manure.

Neville, whose face and torso were also drenched, shook his head to get the worst of it out of his eyes.

"S - sorry," he hasped. "I haven't tried it before…didn't realise it would be quite so…you know….explosive…don't worry though, Stinksap's not poisonous."

"It's alright Nev, Percival here taught me a handy spell this summer."

Harry dropped his wand from his holster into his hand and began syphoning the tenacious fluid off his friend. With a soft splat, a large blob off the stuff, gave in to gravity and fell onto Harry's head. At that precise moment the door to their compartment slid open.

"Oh …hello Harry," at the sound of the soft, nervous and very feminine voice, Percival's head swivelled from where he had been carefully cleaning sap off Luna's robes to look at the very pretty girl with long dark hair who was standing in the doorway. "Um….bad time?"

"Oh…hi Cho," Harry said blankly. "Yeah it is a bit, sorry."

"Um…." said Cho. "Well just thought I'd say hello…..bye then."

Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed. Harry turned back to Neville.

"So, want to learn the charm?"

Neville grinned and pulled his wand from the bag, "Look at this Harry, after I saw you in Diagon. Great disguise by the way. Gran took me to Ollivander's. You should have heard the fuss he kicked up! Just because she didn't take me in first year and made me use Dad's wand. Completely unsuitable he said. It was nearly the best part of my summer I can tell you and…." he raised his new wand for inspection. "Cherry wood and unicorn hair!" he said in awe. "I can feel so much more with it. Thanks!" he looked over at Percival.

"No problem," Percival. "Right back to it then."

By the time Ron and Hermione turned up an hour later the compartment had been returned to its original pristine state.

"I'm starving," said Ron placing Pigwidgeon's cage in the luggage rack. "Hey Harry, where's Hedwig."

"I sent her on ahead," Harry said.

"All pets are supposed to be transported in ministry regulation cages!" Hermione chided.

"That's only if they are aboard the express, Hermione," Ron said. "Percy commented on it when he got his owl in fifth year. It is perfectly acceptable to allow owls to make their own way to the castle. I don't know why I didn't think if it myself to be honest."

"She hates that cage, I wasn't going to confine her to it for eight hours when I don't have to," Harry agreed.

"Guess who's the fifth year Prefects for Slytherin?" Hermione asked looking disgruntled.

"Malfoy," replied Harry at once. It was obvious really, his grades were really good, by far the best in his year in Slytherin and he was Snape's favourite.

"And that cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll…."

"Can't say I know her other than she went with Malfoy to the Yule ball last year," Harry shrugged.

Hermione ignored him, "We have to patrol the corridors every so often," she said with a great deal of self-importance. "And we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving."

"Yeah, I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something," Ron snickered.

"You're not supposed to abuse your position Ron!" said Hermione sharply, before going on to scold him more fully. He just stared at her amusedly.

When Hermione had left the compartment to patrol the train, dragging Ron with her, Harry asked Luna if he could borrow her magazine when she'd finished. She promptly handed it over saying, "I've read it all, already."

It was an interesting and amusing read. Harry was particularly fond of the headline:

**_Sirius Black - as he's painted?_**

**_Notorious mass murderer _**

**_or innocent singing sensation?_**

Sirius would get a laugh out of that he was sure, at any rate Percival was chuckling as he was reading over Harry's shoulder.

"Anything good in there?" Ron asked as he re-entered the carriage and Harry looked up from the magazine.

"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly pushing past Ron to take a seat, before Harry could answer. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," said Luna, her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. "My Father's the editor."

"I - oh," said Hermione, looking embarrassed. "Well…"

"It's alright Luna," Percival said, "Harry and I enjoyed it immensely. Especially the article about Stubby Broadman. I reckon we'll have to send him a copy."

"Oh," the dreamy voice was back. "If you think he'd like it, you can keep that copy."

"Thanks Luna," Harry smiled. "I'll be sure to tell him to get a subscription." She smiled back at him softly.

As usual they were visited by Draco Malfoy, though Harry didn't rise to his threats. Instead he smiled at him placidly when he tried to goad him.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" the blonde had asked.

Green eyes twinkling, Harry replied, "Ron, will make a rather good Prefect I should think. I mean he already knows how to cope with the twins. I guess the question you have to consider is do you? I can only imagine what they would do if you tried to give them detention. Congratulations though, I'm sure you'll survive."

Draco froze for just a second as he considered Harry's words and then with a huff, he signalled his bookends and they departed.

"Harry!" Hermione began to scold. "You can't threaten the prefects….."

The dark-haired boy tuned her out, he needed to talk to Percival. There had to be a better way to deal with the Slytherins. The animosity and fights had to stop. Harry leaned his head against Percival's shoulder and watched as the rain drops slid down the window.

"You'd better change, we're nearly there," Hermione said breaking the silence. She and Ron pinned their prefect's badges to their chests. Harry grinned when he caught Ron checking his reflection in the black window.

At last, the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled ready to get off. Harry patted his pocket, reassuring himself that he hadn't misplaced his trunk.

Ron and Hermione disappeared from the carriage again to go and supervise the students as they disembarked the train, leaving Harry and the others to look after Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon.

"I'll carry the owl if you like," offered Luna, as Neville picked up Trevor's terrarium.

"Oh - er - thanks," said Harry, handing her the case and hoisting Crookshanks carrier more securely in his arms.

They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly they moved towards the doors. Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He stepped onto the platform and looked around, he couldn't see Hagrid or hear his familiar call of "firs'-years over 'ere….'firs'-years…"

Instead they were met with the sight of Professor Grubbly-Plank herding the new students towards the boats.

"Where's Hagrid?" he wondered aloud.

The group became separated as they were jostled along the platform, Harry only managing to stay near Percival by grasping on to the back of his robes with a firm grip, the other arm securely around Crookshanks' carrier. As they approached the coaches he looked around for Ron, wanting to know what he thought about the appearance of Professor Grubbly-Plank, but the lean red-head was no-where in sight, so he followed Percival on to the dark rain-washed road outside of Hogsmeade station.

Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the school. Harry did a double take. The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. If he had had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither - vast, black leathery wings that looked as if they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still in the gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister.

Everyone else seemed to ignore them. Letting go of Percival's robe Harry moved closer to the creatures and reached out a hand, wanting to check if they were real.

"It's ok," Percival said softly. "I can see them too, they are thestrals. You can only see them if you have witnessed death and understood it."

"Mmm," nodded Luna. "They look a bit scary, but you'll find that they are actually rather gentle. They let me visit them in the forest sometimes."

"What are you looking at Harry," Ron asked as he approached.

"Thestrals. Oh, here," Luna passed Pigwidgeon's cage over. "He's rather excitable, isn't he?"

Ron, took the cage and they turned from the thestrals and entered the carriage.


	11. Chapter 11

The first of September had never quite meant the same thing to Petunia Dursley as it had to her sister. Lily, at least in her youth, had thought that it was one of the most magical days of the year. After all it was the day that she got to return to the world of Magic and what could possibly compare to that? Petunia thought of it as the day that she lost her sister forever.

Petunia had nothing to do! Just yesterday they had driven Dudley to Smeltings to get him settled in for the start of the new term, and to speak to the nurse about his continued diet and exercise plan, apparently the boxing instructor was very pleased with him. And this morning Vernon had departed for work very early for an important meeting. All the other housewives in the street were out and about leaving Petunia with nothing to do and no one to visit, such that when the post was pushed through the slot in the door and fell onto the mat with a soft plop she went to pick it up immediately.

The last four weeks had been exceedingly strange she mused as she placed the bundle of letters on the table and put the kettle on to boil. Starting with the night that Harry bought home a nearly unconscious Dudley and a…. friend. Vernon, of course had been the same as always but both Dudley and Harry, and, even if she wouldn't admit it, Petunia herself had been changed by the events of that night. The magical world had invaded her life, in what should have been the worst possible way, but she could only see the positive effects of it. Dudley, had shown a curiosity that he had never displayed before, he hadn't transferred the fear of the dementors onto Harry, but maintained a respectful wariness for magic and become oddly determined to improve his fitness. Harry's friend Percival, had explained several aspects of magical life while still respecting the muggle way, unlike Harry's father. Petunia felt like she understood so much more now. Looking over her old family photos with Dudley, did not hurt in the way it used to anymore.

Which left Harry, the boy that she remembered, now to her shame, was too small and shy. He had neither the bright and bubbly personality of his Mother nor the arrogance of his Father. She had squashed both out of him. However, even after all the years of torment, the beatings, the starving and the confinement, the moment she had offered one hint of approval, and …it wasn't love….companionship, camaraderie? Maybe it was the acknowledgement of mutual understanding of shared loss. Whatever it was, the minute it was offered, he had dropped all defiance and spite, opening up, accepting it, and her, with open arms. It was truly amazing. He should have resented them. She knew she would have.

Finally settling down, with her cup of tea. Petunia turned to the letters and there in a scrawl she remembered from his homework was a letter from her Nephew. Sent by perfectly ordinary mail, a single stamp in the correct corner, and addressed as it should have been. She pushed the nail of a slightly shaky finger under the flap and opened it.

_Dear Aunt Petunia,_

_I hope you don't mind me writing to you. I just thought I'd like to maintain some form of communication while I'm away and figured this would be best. In the event that things become worse with…you know…well anyway, I'll make arrangements for you to be taken to safety. But don't worry at this point everything still looks pretty normal, so I'll try and figure something out by the end of the school year. _

_I wanted you to know that I really enjoyed the time we spent together this holidays, particularly cooking, and I had the thought that maybe next summer we could learn to make bread. I know you don't like to eat too much of it, especially buns and things but we could do savoury rolls as well. What do you think?_

_I took your advice and spoke to both a law wizard and my accountant at Gringotts. They have taken steps to stop the newspapers from printing horrible things about me, and they helped sort out the charges of underage magic as well. Though I suppose you are aware of that already as Mr McMillan had to come to speak to you. Thank you for the advice, it's been extremely helpful. Thank you for also signing my guardianship over to Madame Picquery, she has promised that she will keep you updated and understands that normal channels of communication are the best. She's very smart and knows a lot about the muggle world. I think you'll like her._

_The accountant at Gringotts wanted me to ask, which bank you are with? Don't worry it's not because he's a sticky beak or trying to get into your accounts. Apparently, Mum and Dad left instructions for a fortnightly payment to be made to whoever was looking after me, so that they weren't out of pocket. It's been going to some account at Lloyds. If that isn't your account and you haven't received it you can either, send a normal letter addressed to "Master Accountant-Potter" care of Gringotts London. Send a normal letter addressed to me care of school, or if you wait outside with a letter and say 'I have a letter for Harry Potter' an owl should be along to collect it within ten minutes or so. The last is the quickest means to contact me, though I understand that you might not feel comfortable with it. However, if something happens just know that you can contact me that way if you need to. _

_How has Dudley been? I hope he has a good time at Smeltings this year, I think I'm going to miss him. We'll have to set up a board game tournament again, and see if we can't beat you._

_Best Wishes_

_Your Nephew_

_Harry_

With a tumultuous surge of emotions Petunia, re-folded the letter. She wasn't sure whether to be pleased that the boy had thanked her, wanted to spend time baking, and wanted to ensure their safety or angry that the money that they were supposed to have received had obviously been paid to someone else! Oh, how much easier life would have been in the beginning if they had been receiving some sort of assistance. They had struggled in those early years before Vernon had gotten his promotion, and admittedly had taken the stress of it out on Harry. Was it the banks fault? That just wouldn't do! Who should she reply to? Harry to let him know? Or the bank to correct the fault? Both? Yes, both. She quickly pulled a pen and a lined note pad from the kitchen drawer.

Meanwhile at Grimmauld place, Sirius was also writing a quick missive to Harry, while Hedwig watched on.

"You'll have to hurry, if you want to get there by the time that the train gets in. You know Harry won't be happy if you exhaust yourself."

Hedwig let out a defiant bark at the gentle scolding. She knew he cared for her boy, but he was a silly wizard at times. There were only two opportunities for her to deliver the message tonight, right when the students were hopping off the train (and she didn't fancy trying to get to him in all that hullabaloo), or after the feast when they made their way to the dormitories. If she timed it right, the boy she was beginning to think of as her other wizard would be able to let her into the nest. And as the feast went for a couple of hours she had plenty of time to get there.

"Alright, I suppose you know best," the silly wizard conceded. "Here, let our boy know we're thinking of him."

With an indignant hoot Hedwig jumped into the air and took off, the roll of parchment clasped in one claw.

There was a flash of green from the fireplace and a single sheet of parchment was spat out onto the flagstones of the kitchen floor. Sirius pushed himself up from his seat at the table to retrieve it.

Severus had done it! He had managed to get the spell from Madame Pince, though it had taken some bribery and Sirius now needed to reimburse Severus for two bottles of Elf-made raspberry wine. Ordering Kreacher to retrieve the wine from the cellar and deliver it to the Potions Master at Hogwarts he hurriedly made his way to the parlour and pulled out the book he had bullied Remus into purchasing for him. Glancing back at the letter he drew the wand he had been using (his Grandfather had placed several family wands in the hidden drawer in the mantlepiece in the parlour) since he had arrived at Grimmauld and etched a complicated series of runes into the leather. He had just finished casting the spell when Remus walked into the room.

"It seems rather quiet without everyone here doesn't it?"

"Mmm," Sirius didn't take his eyes off the book, just as Severus had said there was a gauge on the side, it indicated that it would take just over two weeks to complete the spells first stage which was compiling a list of titles and authors. Then a further month to catalogue them by type.

"Sirius!" Remus said sharply.

"Yes," the Black acknowledged distractedly. Would it be soon enough? He supposed there was nothing he could do about it now, and at least it would never have to be done again, as each subsequent addition would automatically be catalogued upon passing through the library doors. He sighed, well even if they found something sooner they wouldn't be able to remove the Horcrux until the Yule holidays anyway. He looked around and realised Remus was glaring at him. "Sorry what was it you wanted?"

"I came to see if you were alright, now that the house is empty. To be honest I'm beginning to worry about you, you've been staring at that book for ten minutes."

"I'm fine." Sirius waved away Remus' concern. "The house is quieter, which is a bit of a relief to be honest. I'm rather pleased that Arthur and Molly have returned to the Burrow. Don't worry about me, I've never been better."

"Good, I'm glad. I'll be heading off soon myself."

"Where are you going?"

"Dumbledore wants me to try the wolf packs again," Remus shrugged. With a jerk the silver eyes turned to stare at him. "What? You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I know it's not!" Sirius snapped. "What can Dumbledore offer them? He's a glorified teacher, not a policy maker and they know it. Has anything in the Wizarding world changed since last time? No! This might as well be a suicide mission Remus!"

"No nothing has changed Sirius. But what else should I do? Sit here doing nothing while I slowly go mad?"

"You think I am mad?" Sirius challenged.

"I….."

"Don't give me Dumbledore's answer?"

The werewolf took a slow breath in, "No. Honestly you seem more sane than I have ever seen you."

"I'm getting help Remus," Sirius admitted. "I have been speaking to Harry's healer. It's helped a lot."

"You can't leave the house, Sirius! What if someone finds you?" Remus' voice squeaked in his shock.

"I have it covered. There's no risk of me being discovered," Sirius reassured. "And Harry needs a Godfather he can rely on so it's worth it. Speaking of Harry. Did you ever bother talking to him?"

"Yeah. I did. He ….well, he hasn't forgiven me I don't think, but he understands now. Hopefully I can make it up to him, in time."

"Good," Sirius sighed in relief. "I would have hated having to cut you out of my life. You're the only friend I have left."

"You would have done that to me?" Remus asked sadly.

"There's not much I wouldn't do to protect Harry," Sirius replied honestly. "Besides after each of us believing the other was the spy, things haven't been quite the same have they?"

"I suppose not. Well….I guess…I'd better go then…" Remus sounded disappointed.

"For the record. I still want you around, and I trust you with most things. Just like you and Harry, I'm sure it will get better with time. I'm not kicking you out of here, your room will still be waiting for you when you come back, if you decide to go off on Dumbledore's ridiculous mission. Just do me a favour. Even if he hasn't forgiven you fully. If Harry understands even a little of what you went through he will be getting attached to you so don't get yourself killed." Sirius gave Remus a wry smile, "he frowns on that sort of thing you know."

Remus walked to the door.

"Wait! I just thought of something!" Sirius hurried over to the fireplace and depressed a decorative floret to reveal the hidden drawer. After a couple of seconds of rummaging around he withdrew a plain platinum bracelet. He waved his wand over it "ab oculus absconder." Then another wave, "portus!"

He walked over and grabbed Remus' left wrist, "Here, no-one else can see it, just you and me. If you need to escape just clasp your other hand over it and say - there's no place like home!"

A laugh burst from Remus, "Really Padfoot! There's no place like home?!"

With a cheeky grin and a wave Sirius saw him out the door.

The carriage bounced over the un-even ground as the children inside discussed the missing half-giant and pondered where he was. It was clear if Professor Gubbly-Plank was around then he wouldn't be arriving any time soon. They disembarked out the front of the castle. Unusually Professor McGonagall was waiting for them.

"Quickly Mr Graves, I need you to come with me," she waved him over. "You'll need to be sorted. Rather than leave you standing there while all the little ones are done, we'll sort you first. Though the Headmaster insisted that it be done in front of the rest of the school just like everyone else. Something about getting the full experience."

"Of course, he did," Percival said amiably. He turned to the group, "I'll see you after then."

He watched with a concerned frown as Hermione grabbed Harry roughly by the arm and pulled him into the hall, before turning and following the Professor.

"Now Mr Graves," she said as she led him into the antechamber. "Just wait here, I'll be right back with the first years."

Percival looked around at the stone walls of the room. It wasn't all that strange that they practically shimmered with magic, after all the place had been a magical school for over a thousand years. No, it was a little more surprising that it hadn't developed sentience as yet. Or maybe? He reached out a hand and laid it on the cool stone, getting the distinct impression of approval. Huh! He wondered who else knew.

"Let. Go. Hermione!" Harry wrenched his arm out of her grasp. "That bloody well hurts."

She just tutted at him, "Now that you're away from that…._boy _I need to talk to you about him. Harry there's something very wrong with him," she whispered.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Harry enquired, speaking normally.

"You'll see, when he's sorted into Slytherin you'll know what sort of person he is," she said eyes turning to the table at the front of the room. "Who's that?"

"At a guess that would be the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher," Ron rolled his eyes when she turned to him in surprise. "What? It's the only position free!"

"She was at my trial," Harry said to Ron in an undertone. "She's one of Fudges lackeys. Umbridge I think her name was."

"Nice cardigan," commented Ginny making Lavender and Pavarti who were sitting two seats further up the table giggle.

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away as a long line of scared looking first-years entered the Hall led by Professor McGonagall, with Percival at her side. She set the sorting hat upon its stool and took a step back.

The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and it began its song. The retelling of Hogwarts founding was not new, though the drifting apart of the Founders and its musing on its own existential crisis were. As was the warning. Well it was new to most of those in the hall though the ghosts confirmed that it wasn't the first time that the Hat had spoken about such events when it felt the situation required it. Sir Nicholas was prevented from giving more details by Professor McGonagall calling the first student's name.

"Graves, Percival."

There was a strange feeling of nervousness in watching his friend be sorted, Harry observed. The wish that the sorting hat would place Percival in the House that suited him best, warred with the desperate desire for him to be in Gryffindor. On reflection there was every chance he would be sorted into Slytherin, he was after all very ambitious and cunning. What was taking the Hat so long? Harry's stomach swooped as the split on the brim opened.

"Gryffindor."

Hermione pursed her lips and turned away when a smiling Percival, walked over and sat down between Harry and Ron.

After the feast Albus Dumbledore stood to re-introduce Professor Grubbly-Plank and to introduce their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Delores Umbridge. Not satisfied with his words Delores herself got to her feet to make a speech.

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. She gave a little throat clearing cough ('hem hem') "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth and Harry wondered if she had any Goblin blood. Though he did make a note not to mention it to Striknott, whom he was sure would be very offended. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me.

Harry glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy. On the contrary, they all looked rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends."

"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," Parvarti whispered to Lavender, and they both lapsed into silent giggles.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem hem') but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them,

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed with careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

At this Professor McGonagall exchanged a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little 'hem hem' and went on with her speech.

"Every Headmaster and Headmistress of Hogwarts has bought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake should be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation….."

By this point all but the most attentive Ravenclaws, Hermione and oddly enough Percival had ceased to listen. Most of the students around the room had commenced quiet discussions of their own, not that Professor Umbridge noticed. Harry had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have ploughed on with her speech. Over at the Ravenclaw table Harry noticed that Luna had pulled apart her necklace and was constructing a sturdy tower out of the corks.

"…pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." She sat down wearing a triumphant smile.

Dumbledore clapped and the staff slowly followed his lead. Most of the student body had been taken unawares by the end of her speech and continued talking for a minute, before turning to stare at the teachers table where Dumbledore had risen to his feet.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said bowing to her. "Now as I was saying Quidditch tryouts will be held….."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," said Hermione in a low voice. Harry wouldn't have paid much attention except for the shocking fact that Percival hummed in agreement.

Turning to look at his friend he asked, "Why? I thought it was mostly….you know…a load of waffle."

With a condescending sigh Hermione spoke, "There was important stuff hidden in that waffle."

"Was there?" Ron said blankly.

"Yes," she said leaning across the table as if she was revealing some salacious gossip. "The Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."

There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Percival waited while Hermione pushed Ron towards the first years before speaking.

Quietly and without drawing attention he said, "In some ways what Hermione said wasn't wrong. It's just that it was incomplete."

"What else did that woman say? She's nearly as bad as Binns, I almost fell asleep," Neville asked from where he had walked up to the other side of Percival.

"She implied that the Ministry won't be making any changes for Muggleborn and that the ways of Pureblood families will be upheld. She all but said that the only way for magic to passed on is via pureblood lines." He thought for a moment "I don't know what it is, but I feel like she's hiding something."

"Maybe Aunt Sera or …." Harry quickly glanced at Neville, "Ah, Snuffles could investigate."

With a laugh Percival said, "Snuffles, really? He lets you call him that?"

Harry just grinned, then turned back to speak to Neville but noticed his friend moving away quietly with a blank look on his face.

"Nev!" he called.

"What?" Neville paused and allowed the other two to catch up.

"Why'd you take off?"

"You were talking about things that you obviously don't want me to know about so…." he shrugged.

Embarrassment flooded Harry, "Nev…it's not that…."

"Ha," Neville gave a wry chuckle. "Yeah it is Harry. You guys have never been bothered with me before. You've always had Ron and Hermione and now you have Percival as well, you don't need me. It's ok I understand why."

"No Neville!" Feeling like a right git, how could he not have realised that Neville had been the odd man out in the dorm, Harry reached out to grab his arm. "You're right. I've not been a good friend till now, and I mean to change that. I struggled for so long trying to figure out what was going on in this place. I only found out about magic when I was eleven and it was overwhelming. Ron was my first friend, and I guess, I found it easier to stick to him, then trying to make new friends. But I'm getting better at understanding things now, Percival's been explaining them to me. So please, don't think I am shutting you out. It's just that this secret, well, it's not mine to share. We have to write some letters and I'll ask if I can tell you."

"Really," Neville seemed a bit stunned but the offer, but his mind jagged on one point, "No-one told you about magic!"

"Not until I got my letter no."

"Which teacher bought your letter?"

"None," Harry shrugged.

"That's not right," Neville frowned. "It's in the charter, all Muggleborn and raised students are to have their letters delivered by an appropriately trained teacher."

"Well, when I finally got given mine, on some little island, it was delivered by Hagrid."

"Harry, that's just not right."

They had come to the end of the corridor and were standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Erm…." Harry said blankly.

"No password, no entrance," she said loftily.

"It's all right Harry I know it. Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once," he waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train. "Mimbulus mimbletonia!"

"Correct," said the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open towards them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had reached the dormitory first and left the bed between Harry's and Ron's free for the newcomer. They ceased talking abruptly as the other three entered the room. Harry wondered whether they had been talking about him, then whether he was being paranoid.

"Hi," he said moving across to his bed, removing his trunk from his pocket and placing it on the floor before enlarging it.

"Hey Harry," said Dean, "Better than Seamus's anyway, he was just telling me."

"Why, what happened, Seamus?" Neville asked as he placed his Mimbulus mimbletonia on his bedside cabinet. Nodding his thanks to Percival who enlarged his trunk for him.

Seamus didn't answer immediately, he was making rather a meal of ensuring his poster of the Kenmare Kestrels, Quidditch team was quite straight. Then he said, with his back still turned to Harry, "Me mam didn't want me to come back."

"What?" said Harry, pausing in the act of pulling off his robes.

"She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

Seamus turned away from his poster and pulled his own pyjamas out of his trunk, still not looking at Harry.

"But - why?" said Harry, with a sneaking suspicion, of why his pyromaniac roommate, might be acting as shiftily as he was. The general Wizarding populous were sheep after all.

Seamus didn't answer until he had finished buttoning his pyjamas.

"Well," he said in a measured voice. "I suppose…because of you."

"Ah, I see," Harry didn't quite manage to hide all of the hurt in his voice. "I suppose she's been reading the Daily Prophet then. They weren't very complimentary, and I had noticed that they hadn't printed a retraction yet after they were issued with the cease and desist order."

"The what?" Dean asked.

"They were printing so many lies about me that a Law firm has taken my case on, and they are being charged with slander amongst other things. If they don't print a retraction and apology within the next thirty days they will be required to pay a ten thousand galleon fine," Harry said, quietly.

"Oh! Look…just…tell us…what did happen that night when…you know, when….with Cedric Diggory and all?"

Seamus sounded nervous and excited at the same time. Dean, who had been bending over his trunk trying to retrieve a slipper, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard. Harry was sick of it, sick of being the person who was stared at and talked about all the time. It made him furious that they all felt like they had the right to know every little thing that he went through.

"What are you…." he began angrily, until the warmth of Percival's hand seeped through the cloth on his shoulder.

"Gentlemen, you already know the relevant details. However, you should be satisfied knowing that Harry's memories of the events were taken by the auror department, in evidence of his case against the Daily Prophet. Amelia Bones deemed it sufficient to uphold the case," he glanced at them sternly, it had been a while since he had bought out parade ground Percival.

"Besides," Neville's voice spoke up from beside them. "That's a bit crass really, asking Harry to recall witnessing someone's death!"

Both boys had the good manners to blush and turn away again, though Seamus did mutter something under his breath that sounded a bit like 'reckon Dumbledore's still a nutter'.

"Seamus," Harry spoke calmly. "Believe whatever you want, it won't change the truth. And you are probably right about Dumbledore." The other boy disappeared behind his bed hangings. Dean sighed and went to bed shortly after.

Harry looked over at the teens who still stood at his side, "Thanks guys."

Percival squeezed his shoulder and they all finished getting ready for bed.

"Look at today," groaned Ron as they sat around the table eating breakfast the next morning. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"I see what you mean," Harry nodded, "though you are on your own in Divination."

"What! No, mate you can't leave me," Ron begged. "Who else am I going to make up predictions with?"

Ignoring the tut from Hermione, who was sitting primly on Ron's other side, Harry said, "Sorry but Perce is going to tutor me in Runes and Arithmancy during those times. You'll have to bug Neville."

"Nah, I dropped it as well, waste of time. Gran arranged for me to be tutored in Runes."

The boys continued to ignore Hermione's disapproving clucks.

"Did you see the sign on the notice board this morning? Looking at this schedule I kinda wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted…"

"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred arriving with George and squeezing onto the bench opposite Harry, pushing Hermione up closer to Ginny. "A Hogwarts prefect surely wouldn't wish to skive off lessons? And on the first day no less?"

"Look at what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his timetable under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," said Fred, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap, if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" asked Ron, previous experience making him more than a little suspicious.

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote as yet," said George, helping himself to a kipper.

"Cheers," said Ron moodily, pocketing his timetable, "but I think I'll take lessons." He caught a movement from Hermione out of his eye and spoke quickly before she was able to. "And about your call for testers."

"Yeah, what of it?" Fred challenged defensively, sitting back folding his arms across his chest.

"Look I know you test everything on yourselves first, so the risk is limited, however I think you need to add a few more precautions."

"Like what?" Fred frowned.

"Like not testing more than two or three products a day on one person and they need to be spaced out to prevent interactions between them. The testers shouldn't be first or second year, you know they won't be reliable in telling you about side effects, like headache and nausea. And you need to provide the testers with a description of what you actually expect the product to do and a list of what could go wrong. Finally, you need to check all testers for allergies."

"There are times where we need to test the interactions between different products, Ron," George said.

"In that case, you need to let them know what to look out for, and that it is a specific test to see if the products would be ok to be taken together."

The twins exchanged a glance that went on for several moments, before agreeing with a nod, "Right you are Ron. We'll take them on board they all seem like sensible precautions."

"And If you don't abide by them, I'll inform Mum," Ron said sternly.

Two pairs of betrayed blue eyes turned on him, "Why would you do that! Ron…." they stood in a huff and moved up the table to sit with Angelina Johnson.

"Ronald," a piercing voice cut through Harry's congratulations at reigning the twins in. "How can you condone them advertising for testers in the common room! It's completely un-ethical."

"Yeah, and I just negotiated with the twins so that it will be much more regulated. Look most of the products they are testing have already been tried on the twins and myself. So one, they work and two there were no…..un-intended side effects. What they now need to know is if that holds true for a wider target group. If they do it in a controlled fashion, the testers are aware of the things that might go wrong and are compensated appropriately then this isn't a bad place to conduct those tests. Should all else fail, Madame Pomphrey is on hand to fix up any mistakes. To be quite honest, if we just went and yelled at them all that would happen is that they would move it out of sight and keep doing it anyway. So at least this way there is some sort of guideline."

Forewarned about Professor Binns before they did their school shopping Percival had suggested that they pool their resources and purchase a high-quality auto-dictation quill, like the one used in the Wizengamot, while they were in Diagon Alley. He had set it up on the outside edge of his desk as they organised themselves at the start of class. Instead of listening to Binns and trying to stay awake through his soporific monotone, he cast a silencing ward around himself and Harry so they could work on Arithmancy which Harry was struggling with. They had offered Ron the opportunity to join them but, he had looked over their text books and decided that he wasn't all that keen, though he'd join on the days that they studied Runes. In the meantime, he could use the extra time to sleep.

Throughout the lesson Hermione shot filthy looks at them out of the corner of her eye.

"How would it be," she asked them coldly, as they left the classroom for break (Binns drifting away through the blackboard), if I refused to lend you my notes this year?"

Her eyes narrowed as she saw, Harry's lips twitch upwards slightly. She must honestly think that they couldn't survive without her.

"You don't think I'd do it, do you! You don't even try to listen to him, do you?" she continued scolding.

"We do try," said Ron. "We just haven't got your brains or your memory or your concentration - you're just cleverer than we are - is it nice to rub it in?"

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," said Hermione, looking slightly mollified, having not picked up Ron's sarcasm.

"You know," said Harry glancing through the notes. "I think if there was a reasonable teacher, this actually might be interesting."

The boys sat side by side in a secluded alcove in the courtyard, each holding their own copy of the notes. Unable to tolerate Hermione anymore they had let her and Ron wander ahead and had ducked out of sight as the pair had turned a corner. Harry knew he would have to find a way to make it up to Ron later. Maybe they could give him a copy of their notes, so he wouldn't need to ask for Hermione's.

"Hello Harry!" a voice startled Harry from his work.

It was Cho Chang and most unusually she was not surrounded by a giggling group of girls.

"Hi," said Harry, looking up briefly.

"You got the stuff off, then?" Cho asked awkwardly.

"Yeah," said Harry, giving her an embarrassed sort of smile. It hadn't been his finest moment.

It was odd, if she had come and talked to him the previous year he would have been nervous and excited, but now….so much had changed. Sure, she was an attractive girl but…those butterflies in his stomach just weren't there anymore. The crush had long since passed. What do you say to the girl you once had a crush on?

"So, did you…er…have a good summer?" he could just about feel Percival shaking his head beside him, and he wished he could have taken the words back. After all Cedric had been Cho's boyfriend and his death must have cast a terrible pall over her holidays.

Unsurprisingly something in her face seemed to pull taut, but she said, "Oh it was all right, you know…."

"Um, well, we'd best go…..we've got Potions," Harry hurriedly pulled Percival to his feet and scurried away towards the dungeons.

Once they had cleared the courtyard, Percival pulled back on Harry's hand, practically dragging the smaller boy into an empty classroom.

"What was that all about, Harry?" Percival asked in a flat tone that Harry didn't like very much.

"That's Cho….. we saw her on the train, remember? She…ah…she's the Ravenclaw seeker."

"And you just randomly have conversations with members of the opposition Quiddtich team?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, no….I don't know why she's started talking to me actually, we've never spoken much before, apart from that once when I asked her to the Yule Ball last year, she said no." Harry frowned. "Heck if we don't hurry will be late for Potions."

As it turned out they just managed to slip into the classroom and slide into their seats before Snape arrived.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.

Snape commenced the lesson with a warning about the up-coming OWLs. Glaring at everyone in the room that he presumed would not do well. Harry suppressed a snort, as he wondered how much of it was an act. Sure, the Potions Master would never be the soft and cuddly type, but he wasn't as hard or mean as he made himself out to be.

Black eyes fell upon Harry and his lip curled. Harry decided he had best help Snape keep up the act and glared back. They were tasked with brewing the Draught of Peace, and Snape could hardly have set them a more difficult, fiddly potion. Harry, took deep steadying breaths and reassured himself that Percival had told him he was improving. The tips and explanations they had found in the two books from the Black library were invaluable.

Briefly Harry caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and was glad that he and Percival had cast the warding spell over their cauldrons, as he saw something leafy ricochet off it and onto the floor.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape with ten minutes left to go.

Harry, who was sweating profusely, looked around. His own cauldron was issuing copious amounts of silver, nearly grey vapour, while Percival's had a light mist rising from it. Harry was happy, it was not perfect, but was much better than he had expected. Ron's cauldron was spitting green sparks, as was Neville's. Snape paused in his circuit of the room just in front of the table Harry was sharing with Percival. He looked down his nose and the only sign that he had noticed the improvement in Harry's work was a raised eyebrow. Taking a step forward he slipped on something on the floor, all the Gryffindors froze as they watched him slowly bend down and pick it up.

"Potter!" he spat, as he lifted the object to eye level. "What is this?"

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry.

"Ah, looks to be a fern frond Sir," Harry guessed.

"And what is it doing on the floor?"

"I couldn't say, Sir. Though perhaps you might like to ask Nott as he's the one who tried to throw it into my cauldron."

"Indeed," Snape turned his eyes on his own students for a second.

Nott, merely raised his hands palm forward and said innocently, "Sir, you know I would never risk interfering with someone's cauldron in such a fashion."

"I should hope…"

"Liar," said Percival flatly. "You are the only one with the correct trajectory for an object to have bounced off, the cauldron ward, onto the floor, all other angles would have landed the ingredient on the table. Besides I saw you! You still have a sprig of frostbite fern on your desk, and it is most definitely not required in this potion, as it would react negatively with the moonstone." He raised his eyes to meet Snape's.

"Five points off each, for back chat, and you can both attend detention with me this evening for lying," Snape snapped. He turned sharply to the front of the classroom. "Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday."

Harry sighed as he decanted his potion, pitying Seamus who was trying to chip a section of his potion off his cauldron where it looked like it had hardened into rock. At least the detention hadn't cost Gryffindor too many points. He shouldered his bag and he and Percival headed to the library.

Surprisingly the rest of the day passed without incident. Though Defence Against the Dark Arts hadn't been great. Harry had only resisted responding to Umbridge's vitriol by recalling Amelia Bones' statement the now was not the right time for the Ministry to admit that Tom Riddle had indeed returned, and Percival judiciously placing a hand on his thigh, in the middle of her diatribe. The warmth bleeding through the leg of his pants, made all thoughts in Harry's mind freeze. It was a wonder he didn't gasp out loud. The circles being rubbed into his pants leg distracted Harry enough that he barely even noticed the passage of time and was surprised when the bell rang, signalling the end of classes.

"Mate, I was sure you were going to have a go at Umbridge!" Ron said as they walked up the corridor towards the Great Hall. "Don't you want the truth known?" Neville was nodding in agreement beside him.

"Here," Percival gripped both boys by the shoulders and pulled them into a classroom. He quickly froze the portraits.

"Ron, you're a great strategist, right?"

Ron cocked his head in confusion.

"It's like chess right, you're good at planning several moves in advance. So, what do you think would happen right now if Madame Bones, announced that her department was chasing down Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters?"

"People would panic and the Death Eaters….They'd go to ground, create alibis…Yeah I get it."

"Exactly, so I already know that the Ministry isn't saying anything. One reason is Madame Bones is making plans. The other is the Fudge is an idiot. I'm not going to change either of those things by arguing with the pink toad. And honestly, we've just got to get through the next ten months then the curse will take affect and she'll be gone. Meanwhile I'm sure the twins will be only too happy to play." They shared a wicked grin.

"Right," Harry said as he stared at the sink in front of him. "I can do this."

"Come on Potter, we haven't got all night," their dour Professor chided. Somehow it lacked its usual level of derision. "I have put a monitoring spell on my classroom, however we will never return to it in time should someone seek me out there. There were enough protests at you having detention on the first day that we might expect visitors."

"Just tell them we were looking for ingredients in the Forbidden Forest, Sir," Harry said, without looking away from the image of a snake that had been scratched on the side of one of the copper taps, trying to visualise a live snake.

"And what pray-tell do I tell them, about the distinct lack of ingredients?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Just tell them we didn't find any, the flowers finished blooming early this year, I'm pretty sure it's due to the heat." Snape was positively stunned, how on earth did Potter know that, it was a conclusion he himself had come to upon noticing the increased prices of ingredients over the summer. "Alternately you can show them the snake skin that you're about to find, though that might raise questions of its own. Open," it came out as a hiss.

The tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move. The sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

"By the Gods, I would never have believed it," Snape muttered. "What are you doing?" he snapped suddenly as Harry prepared to slide his legs into the pipe.

"Um, well you see this is the entrance…"

"You expect me to believe that the great Salazar Slytherin, sat on his backside and slid into his chambers?"

"With all due respect sir, he lived a thousand years ago, I doubt any of us know what he would or wouldn't have done. And as I'm pretty sure that plumbing hadn't been invented yet, I'm guessing the entrance didn't look like this back then."

"Have you tried asking for stairs?"

"Asking for stairs? You think it's that simple," Harry cocked his head to the side.

"Why would it not be? After all, you just said open and it did, surely stairs would have the same affect."

"Ah, the problem Sir, is that snakes don't actually have a word for stairs, which makes that request rather impossible. Good idea though."

"We could try asking Hogwarts," Percival suggested.

"Hogwarts is a building you dunderhead!"

"After a thousand years of absorbing excess magic, Hogwarts is a sentient building Professor," Percival said respectfully, by which point Harry already had his hand on the wall and his eyes closed. With a great grinding of stone, the opening squared off and a set of steps could be seen descending into the dark.

"Mind your heads, you're both taller than I am," Harry said as he led the way.

The descent took a lot longer than the first time he had entered the chamber and Harry was just beginning to wonder if maybe Hogwarts had a sense of humour and was taking them somewhere else when he stepped off the last stair into a damp stone tunnel, that had featured in many of his nightmares.

"Lumos," three wands were raised at the same time illuminating the space as with a crash the opening far above them shut, blocking out the little light it had provided.

The myriad of dead animal bones still lay across the floor, all sharp points and cracking noises when stepped upon.

"Just round this corner Professor, should be a shed skin," Harry swung his wand light across the first evidence that these tunnels had housed that large beast.

"It's twenty feet long at least!" Snape, knelt next to it. "If the way this is preserved is any indication, the cadaver should be in good condition Potter. This area is quite damp, yet, I can see no spores or mould, nor is it showing any signs of decay."

"Did you want to take this with you now Sir?"

Snape looked longingly at the skin, then shook his head, "No, let's press on, shall we?"

"Here's where the others stopped," Harry indicated the rock fall in front of them, we were only second year and Ron had a busted wand, so we didn't know what to do."

"Reparo!" Snape roared, all of the blocks flew up to slot into their original place like a giant jigsaw puzzle and the tunnel opened up before them.

"Thanks Professor."

They walked on, finally coming to a solid wall on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes were set with great, glinting emeralds. Harry swallowed, this was it.

"Open," he hissed again.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight. They were standing at the end of a huge chamber. Everything was just as Harry remembered it.

"Perhaps we should have bought a rooster!"

"Really Potter, why a rooster?"

"Well according to Newt Scamander, the cry of the rooster is fatal to a basilisk. I'd hate to think about there being a second one in here."

"Well if there is I guess, you'll just have to call Fawkes and hope for the best again!" Snape sneered, if Harry didn't know better he would have thought that his professor was nervous.

"I'd really rather not!"

They walked further into the room and as the sconces around the room lit they could finally see the beast, head flat on the floor close to the bust of Slytherin and the tail curled in a great loop. Halfway up its body a white fang stood out in stark relief to where the floor was stained black, and Harry shuddered, at the memory.

Snape was completely absorbed in the beast, muttering to himself, and sending a measuring tape that he had conjured from the tip of his wand around it, jotting down the results every time it drifted back to him. As he carefully pressed open the jaw to examine its teeth Harry turned away and walked over to the statue.

"That's some snake there," Percival spoke quietly from beside him.

"I always wondered what made her follow him you know. I wanted to try and talk to her, but…..I think she may have been mad anyway."

"Did you ever," Percival pointed ahead of them to the arch made by Slytherin's mouth.

"No. After I rescued Ginny I was too worried about getting back to Ron."

With a glance behind Percival said, "No wonder she thinks you're her knight in shining armour." He bumped shoulders with his friend.

"I don't know. I think if she thought about it she'd realise she's strong enough to do the rescuing herself. Do you want to…."

"What exactly, do you think you are doing Mr Potter?" a stern voice interrupted.

"Ah, um I thought we might as well go and see if there is anything else through here, Sir," Harry shrugged.

"Your thoughts Mr Graves?"

"Well, Sir. Looking at the dampness around us, either the area has flooded, or it is beneath the lake and the wards keeping it dry are in the process of failing. Either way there is a risk of potential cave-in, or inhalation of some type of spore that has been incubating in there for the last Merlin knows how many years. It would be best to have an adult accompany us and to investigate the wards first."

"Yes, and unfortunately that will not be happening tonight as curfew is just about upon us. Let us return to the stairs, I will attempt to request Hogwarts provide us with egress into my office. We will need to have another discussion, when I have had a chance to review what I have assessed of the body. You understand that there will need to be more detentions to cover our activities."

"Of course Sir. Sir?"

"Yes Potter."

"Are you going to be able to manage it all by yourself? It actually seems even larger than I remembered it being."

"It is indeed a large beast. With careful preparation I will manage though it will take some time."

"Sir I have a House Elf, who, well, he doesn't really have much to do. He's a bit odd, but would he be helpful?"

Harry just about ran into the back of Professor Snape who had stopped abruptly and whipped around. "Of course, you have a House Elf!"

"I didn't mean to, Sir. I didn't realise. You see he said he wanted to be free, and so when I found out that Mr Malfoy was abusing him…I well, I set him free. Last year I found out he was working here, at the castle, but I didn't realise that he had actually chosen me as his new master, so when he asked, of course I couldn't say no. Well, not after seeing Winky. She's got a problem with butter beer, apparently it's from her depression, because she was freed by Mr Crouch. Anyway I said yes but now I don't really know what to do with him and…."

"Stop your blabbering Potter. Yes, his assistance would be helpful as long as he can follow orders."

"Dobby!" Pop. "Um, Dobby, this is Professor Snape, Professor Snape this is Dobby."

"Professor Snakey sir," Dobby nodded.

"Um, Dobby. Professor Snape has a big job he needs assistance with. I won't make you do it if you don't want to, it might be a bit gross really, and possibly really smelly, but if you would…."

"Get to the point Potter."

"Uh….right, the Professor would like some assistance breaking down the dead basilisk, in the chamber back there. Would you like to help?"

"Dobby cans help Professor Snakey."

"Great. Thanks Dobby, you'll need to listen carefully to what he tells you to do, some of it might be a bit tricky or dangerous."

Dobby nodded and disappeared with a crack.

It turned out that Hogwarts could make the stairs lead directly to Snape's office, so after a much shorter climb they emerged and Snape saw the boys out the door, with instructions that if anyone asked, they had been dissecting flobberworms.

Closing the door behind them Snape had the urge to scream. The bloody beast was eight feet in diameter and nearly ninety feet in the length! Potter had been, and still was, the shortest in his year. He would have been lucky if he had reached four feet by the age of twelve, and he'd been even scrawnier then Severus himself had been at the same age. Why were the Gods testing him so?! He glanced at the table and saw the two bottles of wine that hadn't been there when he had left. Two steps later he stepped into the floo.

"Mutt, you had better be there!"

"Listen Harry, you can't just drop one of your subjects. You need to be taking at least two electives all the way through to OWLs. It says so in Hogwarts a History."

"That's nice Hermione," Harry said as inoffensively as possible. He had hoped that when they returned to school, she would get distracted by her schoolwork and not bother him so much, unfortunately it appeared he was wrong. "How about you check what it says in the Hogwarts Charter. Because Hogwarts a History is exactly that, a documentation of the History of Hogwarts and not an actual list of the rules in place for the school."

"Don't be ridiculous Harry. Now come and see Professor McGonagall with me, and we'll get you back in to Divination," she turned as she saw Neville walk in sit at the table and sleepily pull a cup and a tea pot towards himself. "You'll be next Neville!" she said sternly as she grabbed Harry's arm and yanked it. Neville blinked at her slowly, before mouthing to Seamus 'what did I do?'.

"Leave. Me. Alone. Hermione!" Harry said raising his voice a little, trying to twist his arm out of her vice like grip. "I don't have to see the Professor, I sent her a letter explaining it over the summer."

"Look Harry, I understand that you're trying to be all independent or something but…."

"No. Hermione." Harry snapped a bit louder. "Just let me eat my breakfast!"

"Harry!" Hermione said, seemingly making a decision. "I don't know what that boy has done to you, but you are coming straight to the Hospital wing with me, so that Madame Pomphrey can remove whatever spell that disgusting boy has put on you. Clearly, he has confunded you or something. Maybe he used the imperius curse, to make you believe you can do all this stuff by yourself. But you just can't Harry! He's evil."

"First of all, Hermione, he's fifteen it would be next to impossible for him to cast the imperius. Second I can throw off the imperius curse. Lastly, how dare you! You don't know Percival at all, he has far more integrity than you."

"Oh Harry, grow up! He's using you Harry…"

"Enough. Hermione!" Harry shouted.

"What is going on here pray- tell?" the silken tones of Professor Snape washed over them. Hermione automatically blushed and dropped her eyes to the floor. Harry turned glaring green eyes on the Professor for just a heartbeat before realising who it was.

"Just a difference of opinion Professor," he ground out.

"Really? Try again. Miss Granger…."

"Well you see Professor, both Harry and Neville have dropped divination to self-study Runes, however Hogwarts a History clearly states that students must continue at least two electives all the way through to OWLS, so I was encouraging him to see Professor McGonagall and correct…"

"That is enough, Miss Granger. While Mr Potter is correct in that he can drop a subject as long as he self-studies another I do not believe he has the necessary qualities to be able to tutor himself. I will address the issue with his Head of House. And Mr Potter five points from Gryffindor and detention with me this evening for yelling at another student."

This time there were four of them in the chamber. Dobby was proving to be an enormous help to Snape. For a start he had cleaned up all the dead bones, sorting them into boxes of individual species, (who knew that animal bones could be used in potions) and removed the slime from the walls. He was also able to seal the chambers wards, point out where the holes in the original wards had formed, and dry out the area. Snape had said he thought that this section had been warded by Slytherin himself, separately to the rest of the castle, so when the Founder had died they had slowly started to deteriorate, rather than being renewed by the extra magic in the castle. He would need to investigate to find a way to link them to the rest of the wards later. Dobby's solution would work for now.

Snape had requested a fifteen percent cut of the sale of the Basilisk, which Harry had agreed to.

Harry turned to look at the Professor, who had been showing him precisely where to make the incision to remove one of the Basilisks giant rib bones, "Why are you doing this? The price doesn't seem enough."

"What do you know about Basilisk parts Potter?"

Harry shrugged, "Not much. There hasn't been any available for years. The skin is resistant to spells, so makes good boots and armour. The poison is toxic and," here he remembered what Healer Addison had said, "it has no half-life, or rather its half-life is infinity."

"Every part of the Beast is a class B non-tradeable material. As such the only means of acquiring any is from a newly deceased animal which it is prohibited to breed."

"Wasn't it a bit pointless to negotiate a percentage, if we can't sell it then?"

"It could be a percentage of the materials Potter."

"What am I going to go with eighty-five percent of a dead basilisk?!"

"You mentioned boots…" Snape's lips twisted upwards slightly, as Harry snorted.

"That's an awful lot of boots, Sir."

"Yes well. For an additional fee I might know someone who can assist us in selling what we don't want on the black market. There is still a demand for the parts by Potion Masters across the globe."

Glancing sideways, Harry said, "I might pay an additional fee, but that would depend….Were you intending to use Mundungus?"

Snape glared his nose at Harry, for a long moment before turning back to make the next incision.

"Well that's good then."

"Neville," Harry grabbed his friend by the shoulder and prevented him from leaving the dorm with the other boys."

"We'll be late Harry!" the round-faced boy protested.

"It won't take a minute. So I got onto Snuffles last night, and he said that if you studied Occlumency then I can tell you, otherwise it will all be out in two weeks and I can tell you then."

"What? How did you…?"

A grinning Harry was holding up an ornate mirror.

"Oh! Um…. Gran didn't teach me," Neville shrugged despondently. "So…."

Harry frowned, "Damn we were sure that as The Longbottom you would know. Hey, do you want to learn with me? Percival's been teaching me."

"I don't know Harry, I don't think I'd be any good."

"Neville," Harry tilted his face so that he could look his friend in the eye. "Your Gran wears a hat with a stuffed vulture on it. Even I can tell she doesn't know anything about fashion, so there's every chance that she doesn't know enough about you for this. Percival said you had a huge reservoir of magic, and even if you didn't this isn't about power."

"You really think I can?"

"Yep, it's helping me, I really think it can help you too."

"W-well, I suppose there's no harm trying."

"That's the attitude, Nev. Now we had better get to breakfast before Ron eats it all!"

"For the Gods sake Hermione, if I have told you once I have told you a thousand times. My homework is up to date!" Harry spat.

The fuzzy haired girl had been waiting for him in the common room and had followed him to breakfast again, nagging him all the way down the staircases until just as they reached the Great Hall the boy had snapped.

"But Harry. I know you're struggling, there's no way you can be completing it to any sort of reasonable standard without my help. You might think you've done a good job, but I just know that you haven't. At least let me check it for you!" she wheedled.

"No!" Harry flopped down in his seat and pulled a random book from his bag and slammed it up in front of his face, so he didn't have to look at her. Why did Perce have to get sick today? In the six weeks he had known the other boy he hadn't been ill at all, but today he had woken looking shaky and pale, Harry had helped him to the hospital wing before returning to the dorms to dress.

"What on earth! Is that the Arithmancy text book? Why are you reading that? Put it down and talk to me Harry it's not like you can understand it anyway!"

"Go. Away. Hermione!"

"Harry, this behaviour has to stop…"

"Shut Up Hermione!" Harry finally yelled over the top of the book.

"Detention, Mr Potter!" Snape said from behind them.

Harry dropped his head onto the table with a thud.

"You and Miss Granger, don't seem to be getting along," the Potions Master commented as he dropped the heart string of the Basilisk into the glass jar that Harry was holding. Percival hadn't been given a detention tonight so was spending the evening helping Neville with his Occlumency.

"Noticed, that did you?" Harry said drily.

"I don't think anyone hasn't noticed."

"Haven't been keeping it a secret. Has she always been this bossy do you think or is it getting worse?"

"She has always been bossy, Potter. Though she does seem to be taking it to extremes at the moment. Seal that up with the wax Dobby. Get a fresh Jar for the valves next Potter, if you grab the biggest one they should all fit."

Harry searched through the box of supplies and pulled out a jar.

"Yes, that's the one," Snape nodded, as he cast a preservation charm over the jar that Dobby had just sealed.

"How long do you think it will take to harvest and preserve it all?"

The older man looked at the remains of the beast, "It should be quicker going once we have finished with the internal organs. Maybe a month in total."

"I'm kind of enjoying this, you know," Harry said thoughtfully. "It seems potions isn't so bad after all."

"You have improved." There was that odd lip twitch again. Harry wondered whether it was Snape's smile or if he was just having a minor stroke at having to admit that a Potter wasn't that bad at something.

"Yeah, Percival found a couple of texts in the Black Library, on how to prepare ingredients and the basic guidelines for brewing. It helped me understand it much better."

"If you had read the ones on the list in first year, I am sure they would have been adequate."

Harry looked at him oddly, "Um Drafts and Potions was the only Potions text book on the list Sir."

"What of Ingredient preparation 101 and brewing for the beginner?"

Harry shook his head, "I actually found my first-year letter and book list when I was re-packing my trunk this year. I can show you if you want."

Obsidian eyes stared at him for a moment, "That won't be necessary. It explains so much," he sighed. "I will give you the details, as I am sure that the ones you have are out of date."

"I expect so," Harry stated with a wry smile. "They were written in 1898 and 1901."

"In that case your performance in class is nothing short of miraculous. It's just about curfew. There is a box by the stairs, it has your potions in it, make sure you pick it up on the way out."

"Thank you, Sir, and don't stay up to late, we don't need you to be grumpy in the morning," Harry grinned as he rushed towards the stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

The librarian at Smeltings was most surprised, of all the students at the school the one that she could see sitting at the table at the back of the library was the one she would least expect to be there. By all accounts his attitude had taken a turn for the better this term, and the boy had been applying himself in all his classes. The poor dear would never be the brightest but it looked like he might actually make something of himself after all.

The blonde curly haired boy had his head cocked to the side and tongue protruding slightly through his pursed lips as he concentrated on the letter he was writing.

_Hey Harry,_

_Was pretty stoked to get your letter. Hope everything is going alright. Schools ok. Coach reckons I'll be fit enough to enter the comp this year, so long as I practice. He's made it a requirement that I have to get at least B's in all my subjects, or I won't be allowed to go. It's at Plymouth this year. Should be exciting. I signed up for tutoring which starts next week so I'm hoping that'll help me get across the line. _

_Mum said you were keen to do some more cooking in the summer hols, maybe you can teach me. Coach says maybe if I understand what goes into food better, it might help me make better choices. There isn't much choice with college food, but I'm doing my best, and trying to keep up the exercise. I never want to feel as unfit as I felt THAT night ever again! _

_Well best go. Mum says if I just address this to you at your school it will get there, so fingers crossed._

_Dudley._

Yeah that seemed about right. His Mum had said he could post it the normal way or he could just stand outside and …. What was the worst that could happen? He'd look like a fool.

"Um…Is there an owl about? Ah…I've got a letter for Harry Potter?" he said querulously to the trees feeling like a bit of a twit. Dudley jumped when a brown barn owl hooted at him from the lowest branch on the closest tree. He could have sworn it hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Oh…um…right, well that was unexpected. Would you mind awfully taking this to Harry? Ah…..please? He's at Hogwarts." The owl deigned to lift a leg so that Dudley could give it the note. "Um…thanks?" He watched as with an imperious hoot the owl flew away.

Right. Well. That just happened!

Two weeks into school and the rumours still followed Harry.

"They say that he was there when Diggory was murdered….."

"If he was there, why didn't he save him?"

"Yeah if he killed….."

"Do you reckon he actually killed Cedric?"

"Potter? nah, couldn't hurt a fly…"

"They say he duelled You-Know-Who…"

"Who are they kidding, there's no way he could have …."

"No more than an average student…..

"Would have been killed if it was true….."

"He's just saying it for the attention…."

"Did ya notice he hasn't said anything to Umbridge?"

Harry dropped his head into his hands, he hadn't even bothered to try and defend himself, and when he had gone to Professor McGonagall to complain (after being prompted by Percival) she had just told him that she couldn't do anything about it and to buck up.

"Do you reckon that they believed it when Dumbledore told them what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament?" Harry asked Percival and Ron.

Ron shrugged, "Who knows Harry. Though I kind of wish you'd let us say something."

"No point mate. Like I said to Seamus, what they believe doesn't change the truth and it will all come out in the end."

A soft hoot drew their attention to Hedwig's approach. Harry lifted an arm to provide her with a perch.

"Hey girl, you didn't come in last night," Harry crooned.

Hedwig bobbed as she dropped the copy of the Daily Prophet she was carrying onto the table and settled herself more comfortably on his arm. Percival reached over and stroked her chest feathers. Hedwig cooed. Oh yes having two wizards of her very own was a very fine thing. Her second wizard was a fine choice indeed. It had only taken him a matter of moments to notice that she was waiting at the window on the first night, and another minute to find a way to let her in. Now her perch was set up between her boys' beds, so she could keep a better eye on them.

Percival picked up the newspaper and paused as he read the Headline.

_Imprisoned without Trial, _

_Lord Black to have his day in Court._

_Justice Delayed_

He raised the paper to show Harry, who snatched it out of his hand. His eyes devouring every line. A frown slowly marring his brow.

The paper hit the table with a loud thump as Harry stood, "Right I need to send a letter to McMillan."

Neville grabbed his arm and unceremoniously pulled him back into his seat, while Percival merely pulled parchment, quill and ink from his bag and handed them to Harry. Who quickly scribbled a note, ripped the offending article from the paper and gave both to Hedwig.

"I know you just got in Hedwig, but would you mind?" She hopped up his arm to his shoulder and head butted him. "Thanks, it is about Snuffles, they probably already know but…" She gave a reassuring hoot as she took wing.

Percival raised an eyebrow at him, "The headlines seemed fine."

"Yeah until you read the article which is all about receiving justice for the people. And that the House Lords are all subject to the same laws as the common man and under such he should have been kissed. The date is set for next week. Do you reckon Dumbledore would let me go?"

"It's Headmaster Dumbledore," Hermione said as she slid onto the seat next to him. "Now what are you talking about."

"Whether Harry would be allowed to attend Lord Black's trail," Neville responded helpfully.

"Oh Harry," Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "Do you really want to go and see him given the kiss. After all, regardless of anything else he escaped Azkaban, and was an unregistered Animagus, so it will either be straight back to prison or the kiss for him. I don't think it's a good idea, besides you shouldn't miss out on classes to go to something like that. Headmaster Dumbledore would be well within his rights not to let you go."

"Actually," Percival said. "I believe that it would be up to Aunt Sera, as your guardian, whether or not you can go Harry. So, we just need to send her a note and see what she says."

"Don't be ridiculous, some random Yank can't possibly be Harry's Guardian, everyone knows that it is the Headmaster!"

Swinging his bag across his shoulder Harry stood up, "Not that it's any of your business Hermione, but Dumbledore has never legally been my guardian. Come on Perce, I don't want to be late for Potions."

They four boys left before the fuzzy haired girl could get in another word, heading to another lesson for Harry to get detention in. To be honest it was becoming a bit of a game.

"But Sirius," the dark-haired boy pleaded. "Sera can just come and get me from school. I want to be there for you."

"We talked about this Harry. The four of us and we don't think it is a good idea. The most important thing is that you are safe, and by staying away, if it goes pear shaped then you won't be dragged into it. We already know that they are intending to bring up my Animagus status, but Sera has lodged the forms with the ICW, so that should be covered. I have already signed the paperwork to request Veritaserum and with the memories that you gave to Amelia, it should be fine."

"But…" Harry looked away from the mirror. "I just…"

"I know, I would love you to be there, but I'll spend most of it in a Ministry cell anyway. Both Addison and Sera will be there to support me. If you like I can give them my mirror so that you can watch when you aren't in classes."

Harry nodded, "How do they decide if you're innocent?"

"A Lord can only be tried before the entire Wizengamot. Dumbledore has been trying to be made chair, but as his status as both Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock were revoked over the summer, I don't think he'll succeed. Sera is pushing for Babajide Akingbade the new Supreme Mugwump who should be impartial. Though Fudge is fighting that, stating that he wants to keep it all internal. He has nominated Lucius Malfoy. Which will obviously be denied as he isn't a member of either the Wizengamot or the ICW. The other options appear to be Tiberius Ogden, Amos Diggory and Augusta Longbottom."

"I just, want this to work, I want you to be free Padfoot," a soft hoot sounded from behind the boy.

"Is that Hedwig?"

"Yeah," Harry reached up an arm to pet her, moving the mirror so that Sirius could see.

"Owls can't get into the dorms, there's a spell on all the windows!"

"Yeah well, Perce found out that Hogwarts is sentient and apparently if you ask her really nicely, she'll let your owl in." Harry grinned. "She also made stairs into the Chamber of Secrets which Snape was grateful for. I was a bit disappointed as I was looking forward to seeing him go down the slide."

"How's that going? I think Severus might have been a bit shocked initially."

"You should have seen his face" Harry giggled.

"What's so funny Harry?" Perce asked, sticking his head around the curtain. "You need to remember the silencing charm Harry!" he scolded half-heartedly. "Hi Sirius," he greeted the older man.

"Right!" Harry waved a hand to apply the charm. "I was telling Sirius about our first visit to the chamber and Snape's face when he saw the basilisk."

"Snape's face! What about mine? We will have to show you the memory Sirius, that thing is enormous. They'll be lucky to have finished it by Sauin!"

"I think I caught a glimpse of it. He popped in here afterwards, it's the first time I've ever seen him have a drink, I've never been so shocked. Have you explored the rest of the chamber?"

"He won't let me," Harry pouted. "I cannot spare the time to supervise you gallivanting through the unknown depths of the castle Potter. Perhaps if you work hard enough, I might be able to spare an afternoon sometime around Yule," Harry tried to make his tone replicate the Potions Masters.

"That was awful Harry," Percival snickered.

"Dobby's liking the extra work anyway, and it's been really interesting. It's surprising how relaxed Snape is when he's not teaching. I've managed to pick up a few tips, and we discovered that my Booklist for Hogwarts in first year was short five books. It's amazing the difference the extra information has made."

"What? Harry everyone should receive the same booklist. It all gets addressed by a magical quill. The House Elves pick them up and then give them to the owls."

"Yeah, well not mine. It also raises some issues about who knew…."

"Who knew what Harry?" Looking at the grumpy face before him Sirius guessed. "This is something that the Dursley's did isn't it. The pen addresses the envelopes to the room you spend the most time in. Lily once told me hers was addressed to 'the kitchen' 42 Hencamp Street, Cokeworth. James was very proud that his was addressed to 'the quidditch pitch' Potter Manor. So where did you spend most of your time in that house Pup?"

The scowl lessened slightly at the information about his parents before returning full force, "thecupboardunderthestairs."

Black and Silver eyes stared at him.

"Forgive me Pup, but I do not want to believe that I heard that right!" Green eyes looked away. "That's it! I'm going to go and strangle them! And that old bearded codger too. An address like that would have even the House Elves taking the letter to the Headmaster."

Percival wrapped an arm around Harry and tucked him in under his chin, "Sirius! You are upsetting Harry."

"Oh! Harry Pup. I'm not mad at you!"

"I know, but don't go hurt them. They'll put you away for real this time….and Aunt Petunia is getting better…."

Sirius smiled gently at Harry's rambling, "Harry, I promise, I won't go after them. For starters we will need a plan before we go after Dumbledore, but mark my words if Vernon hurts you again. I will hurt him….using perfectly mundane and normal means that can't be traced back to me." The smile turned evil.

"Ok, Padfoot."

"No detention tonight?"

"Nah, I think Snape needed a night off, either that or he really wanted to experiment with the scales he managed to lift off the skin last night," Harry grinned. "You should see him, he's like a third year in Honeydukes! It's weird."

"Righto Pup," Sirius was thoroughly amused. "How's everything else going?"

"Really good, Neville and I have been meditating at night, and then Percival helps with Occlumency just before we go to bed. Ron's even joined us a time or two, says it helps him concentrate better. Hermione's getting annoyed because, Percival beats her in all the classes, and Neville, Ron and I are catching up fast. Ron's talking about starting up a chess club and a study group for the firsties to help them settle in, which he wants us to help with. Perce will take magical theory, I'll take defence, Nev will take Herbology. We're looking for someone to help with Potions, transfiguration, charms and history."

"I think the twins could help with Potions and Transfiguration, and I hear Lee is good at History," Percival added. "Though maybe we don't want them influencing the kids."

'Mmmm. I think Fay Dunbar, is good at Charms too, and do you think we need to stick with Gryffindor, maybe we could make it a school wide study group?"

"It's worth thinking about."

They finally turned back to the mirror to see Sirius smiling at them, "I guess I'd best go so you can get that meditation done. Oh! Harry before I forget, Neville's Mum was your Godmother. Your Dad chose me, but Lily chose Alice. Remind me to tell you the story of how they met. I'm not sure but Lily may have been Neville's as well." And dropping that bombshell, Sirius said good night and the mirror returned to showing Harry's own face.

"Neville!" Harry roared, ripping the curtains apart.

The tall Gryffindor froze in the process of changing into his pyjamas, "What?"

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Harry accused.

"T-t -tell you what?" Neville stuttered in the face of Harry's attack.

"Harry," Percival's voice was a warning of its own. "He doesn't know what was discussed and…" he gestured to the other beds, where three boys all in various states of undress were watching curiously.

"Um," Harry turned bright pink as his anger receded. "R….ight, sorry. Neville, I have something I need to discuss with you in private, if you would like to join me in the common room after, you've changed." With as much dignity as he could manage Harry fled the room.

"Harry, what's going on?" Neville's hesitant voice reached the boy sitting on the couch starring into the fire.

"Sorry Nev, that wasn't very fair of me to attack you like that. I guess I understand why you did it…after all I wouldn't have wanted to be associated with me either….so I get it. It just hurt, you know, to think that we could have…that I could have known…if you'd only said."

Neville frowned as he sat next to his friend, "Harry, you're not making any sense. Should I go and get Percival? He said this was something we needed to sort out but…. Well, I don't understand."

"Were you ever going to tell me Nev?"

"Tell you what Harry?"

"That you're my Godbrother, of course."

"I'm you're what!"

"Godbrother. My Godfather just told me that your Mum was my Godmother. And he thinks my Mum might have been yours. Why…" he paused as he took in Neville's shock slackened features.

"I didn't know," Harry barely heard the whisper. "Honestly Harry, I didn't know." His voice grew stronger. "I wonder if Gran knew and didn't tell me? No, she wouldn't have. Maybe she didn't know?" He frowned. "I'll send a letter to ask, but if find out that she knew and didn't tell me, then I'll cut her off as soon as I'm Lord Longbottom!"

Both boys sighed.

"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously and laughed, flopping back on to the couch.

"I wish I had known," Harry said.

"It would have been nice," Neville agreed.

They sat their next to each other, only making their way up to bed after the fire had burnt down to embers.

Harry was fidgeting, it took him slipping with the filleting knife and nearly removing his own thumb for Percival to move him away from the basilisk.

"No more sharp objects for you until we hear how it went today," the ex-Auror told his friend seriously. "Go sort out the jars with Dobby, I'll help Snape."

With a sigh, Harry said, "with all the work you're doing here I feel like I should give you a percentage of the basilisk too. It's almost a full-time job looking after me!" He wandered over to the House Elf.

"He's a menace when he is like this," Snape stated.

"Mmmm, we'll work on it. If he wants to be a Auror he'll need to be able to concentrate under pressure."

"Yes. However, I don't think he will need to make exact incisions in a poisonous beast though. Do you actually believe he wants to be an Auror?"

"I believe that is what he thinks everyone else wants him to be. Eventually I hope he will realise that he can choose for himself. Despite his talent at Defence I can tell he actually prefers charms, and the rate at which he is picking up runes is quite something."

"Like his Mother," Snape nodded. "She was immensely talented at potions but hated the dissecting of 'slimy things' and much preferred Charms. I had heard that she was going to be apprenticed to Professor Flitwick before they went into hiding."

Percival stared at his Professor for a moment, "Harry would appreciate it, if you told him stories about her."

"Mmmm," Snape turned back to the beast, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Another week will see this portion complete. I have already spoken to my contact and he has disseminated news of the sale, there is much interest. He is expecting, given what I have told him about the volume and quality of the materials that he will need to stage at least four separate sales over the next five or six years. He will take a one percent commission."

"So that is twenty percent for you, five percent for Percival, and one percent for the seller. Do you think I should give some to the people who were attacked? And maybe Myrtle's family? What about Hogwarts?" Harry commented as he approached them with the next jar.

"That is a difficult thing Harry. We can investigate Myrtle's family, though they are muggles and may not appreciate hearing from this world again. And any money given to Hogwarts is under the purview of the Headmaster."

"Could you ask the Professors what they need then and I could arrange to have it ordered? Like how the school brooms needed replacing when I was in first year and it still hasn't been done. I'm sure there are lots of other things which are needed?"

Obsidian eyes, gazed at him thoughtfully, "I am sure Madame Hooch would appreciate new training brooms, perhaps even brooms for each of the Quidditch teams. The potions classroom could use new benches. I have seen some in Potions Masters Quarterly that come with a warding charm over the table, it vents the gases, and prevents un-intended ingredients being thrown into the cauldrons." Snape looked positively misty eyed at the thought.

"Right well we'll get those, and maybe Professor Sinistra would like a projector, that way her classes won't have to be taken at night. Hagrid's Hut needs an upgrade. What about the Merpeople and the Centaurs?"

"I will ask Harry," Snape promised. "Though I certainly think you are right about the brooms. Now you had best make your way back to the tower before curfew, Dobby and I will finish up here."

Despite it being only mid-September the night was surprisingly cold. Harry rubbed his hands together as they hurried on their way. It was as they were passing the tapestry of the Three Fates that they heard it. A faint sniffling noise. Careful inspection showed the tops of a pair of shoes just peeping out from under the tapestry. The boys stopped and looked behind it.

"Dennis? Are you alright? What's happened?" Harry asked, squatting down, to be eye level with the boy who was sitting behind the tapestry, arms curled around his knees.

"What d'you care?" the small boy whined and rubbed his hand under his nose.

"Well, of course I care. Why wouldn't I?"

"You let her get away with sayin' that You-Know-Who isn't back. You don't care that she calls you a liar!"

"Umbridge," Harry groaned. "What did she do?"

"Gave me detention!" Dennis, was making odd movements with his hand, hiding it under the sleeves of his robes.

"Right, Dennis, let's get you up to the tower then we'll have a talk about this, ok?" He looked at the boy soberly. With another sniff Dennis hauled himself to his feet, and the trio emerged from the tapestry.

"Why don't…."

"Shhh, Dennis!" Percival interrupted as they walked passed a seemingly sleeping portrait.

"But….."

"But patience is a virtue, Dennis," Harry said calmly, making Percival snort and murmur 'hypocrite' earning a glare in return.

Eventually they made it back to the common room, and the older boys, sat Dennis down on the couch and cast a silencing charm around themselves.

"Ok, Dennis," Harry said looking straight at the younger boy. "It's not that I don't care about what she is saying, it's just that it isn't useful for me to fight her just at this moment."

"I don't understand. We're Gryffindors we stand up for what we believe in, we…"

"Yeah, I know, but we're also not stupid. There are a couple of things going on at the moment that you don't know about. Some within the ministry. The right people at the ministry know the truth and are acting on it. Umbridge is not one of those people."

"You're saying I should let her get away with it?"

"I'm saying you should ignore her because her opinion is un-important, and everyone will know the truth in the end."

"So, he really is back? Just some people are saying that because you aren't standing up to her, that you must have been lying."

"Yes, he is back Dennis, I just know that nothing I can say or do is going to change her mind. In fact, I believe she is more likely to side with Voldemort than not."

"So, I shouldn't say anything?"

"Not if you don't want another detention." Seeing the crestfallen expression on the boy's face Harry continued, "Look, thank you for standing up to me Dennis. It actually means quite a lot to me. You know both last year and back when I was in second year, I didn't have a lot of people who were on my side, so I really do appreciate it."

"Ok, Harry," Dennis looked slightly happier.

"Good. Now off to bed." He reached out and ruffled Dennis' hair.

Opening their bags to pull out their homework, Harry and Percival watched Dennis, climb the stairs to his dorm.

"Did you notice he was doing something funny with his hand?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I couldn't see what the problem was though, he kept it hidden in the sleeve of his robes."

"Do you reckon Umbridge is using the cane or something?" Harry rubbed his hand in remembered pain.

"The cane isn't something that is used in the Wizarding world Harry. But that doesn't mean she isn't doing something like it with stinging hexes or similar. We'll have to keep an eye on it."

"Yeah I'd hate for him to be hurt, defending me."

"Well there's not much we can do at the moment and talking about it won't get our homework done."

With a groan, Harry opened his text books. It was going to be hard to focus on his assignments tonight, when tomorrow they would find out how the first day of the trial went.

_Trial of the Century _

_Lord Black to Countersue Wizengamot for False Imprisonment_

"I'm glad you listened to me," Hermione said as Harry was reading the paper. She tried to take it off him, but he gripped it tighter and pulled it out of her reach.

There wasn't much in the article, however Aunt Sera had snuck in with the mirror enabling him to speak with Sirius that morning before breakfast. According to The Black, the trial was going well. All the evidence was in his favour. Kingsley had managed to dig through the evidence archive and find Sirius' wand, which under priori incantatem had revealed its last spells to be a simple healing charm, followed by several point me charms, and finally an expelliarmus. Harry's memory of Peter Pettigrew's confession was presented as an indication (rather than evidence of Sirius' innocence) of the man's survival (which had caused the elderly Mrs Pettigrew to faint in the visitors' gallery). Statements from the Aurors on duty, noted that when taken into custody Sirius was hysterical, and did not offer any resistance to arrest. They also noted that their orders were to take him immediately to Azkaban, even though all the other Death Eaters were remanded to Ministry cells for trial, though none could remember where these orders had come from. Today would be the day that Sirius presented his own testimony.

Hermione made another snatch for the paper, and Harry leant away from the table so that her hand clutched thin air.

Thump.

"Ow, for crying out loud Hermione!" Harry rubbed his arm, certain that was going to bruise later.

"Well, you weren't listening to me!" she said indignantly as if that justified her actions.

"And I'm not likely to start now!" Harry's eyes returned to the article in the paper.

"Good Morning!" Luna sat down next to Harry and poured herself a cup of tea, just as he finished reading. "Ah is there anything in the paper on Stubby Broadman? Could I read it please?"

"Yeah, sure!" Harry passed her the paper without complaint, causing an indignant squawk from Hermione.

"Oh, see that, the Blibbering Humbingers are going to be bothering him today."

"I expect they will," Harry replied solemnly.

"Not to worry Harry, a few songs should clear them right up."

"Harry, she's just making things up. Now give me that paper!" Hermione demanded.

"Ah, is that today's paper?" Neville said as he sat down next to Luna, "I was wanting to look at the finance section, if you don't mind?" She passed him a couple of pages out of the middle. "Thanks."

"Oi, Harry, can we have sport please," the twins called out in chorus, making grabby hands. The last few pages were separated, and a section passed down the table. "Ta."

"Thanks for holding politics for me," Percival said as he sat down beside Harry, taking the remain sheets of parchment out of Luna's hands. "Have you read what you wanted?"

"MmHmm," she nodded as she spooned a bit of porridge into her mouth.

"No! I wanted the paper! . !"

"Um, Hermione, if you want the paper perhaps you should order your own," Ron suggested as he walked up to the table and sat down beside her. Harry felt a little mean at deliberately goading the girl, so he stifled his snicker. "Oh, and don't forget we've got a prefects meeting at lunchtime."

"I already have a meeting at lunchtime," she protested.

Ron shrugged, "Don't tell me, I can't do anything about it. This was the only time that everyone was available. You agreed to it at the last meeting. So, you'll have to cancel whatever else you've got."

"I can't cancel, it's with the Headmaster!" she hissed.

"Well, that's up to you, but you'll need to tell the Head Boy and Girl."

Hermione pushed herself to her feet and stomped away angrily.

"What's got her hippogriff?" Fred asked as he sauntered up and passed the sports pages to Ron.

His youngest brother sighed, "Not sure what was going on before I got here but someone needs to have a chat to her, or she isn't going to have any friends left before too long." With a groan he placed a couple of pieces of buttered toast into a napkin. "I think I'll go and give the Head Boy a warning. No one deserves to encounter Hermione on a warpath this early in the morning without warning."

As Fred and George moved to sit further up the table with the Gryffindor chasers, Percival leaned across to say quietly into Harry's ear, "Don't you think it's odd that she's meeting with the Headmaster?"

"Yep. And that she's neglecting her Prefect's duties. He's got to have been the one who gave her the Potter books. Hey, you never told me about the Potter Grimoire!"

"Oh, when a family has been around long enough, all members begin to have magic that has a similar…..resonance, vibration, I see it as a colour. That makes it easier for them to perform certain groups of spells. Over time specific spells are developed that only that family can do or only the family knows about. These are written down in the Grimoire. It is also used to keep a record of important events in the family's history."

"You mean…." Harry turned hopeful green eyes at his friend. Then he frowned, as a rush of anger swelled through him, and he burned with the desire to strike the boy who had failed him. "And you didn't think to tell me this before now!" Pushing away from the table Harry surged to his feet and stamped out of the hall.

"What did you do?" Neville asked Percival curiously.

With a frown on his face Percival said, "I forgot to tell him something about his family."

"Ah. Seems a bit over the top, like last night."

Yeah, maybe…..but it seemed more than that. I'll check later. Come on, I think we have transfiguration first. He' probably just gone there."

Meanwhile Hermione had stormed off to the Headmasters Office.

She practically shouted the password at the Gargoyle, "Mint Humbugs!"

"Come in," the Headmaster's voice filtered through the door. She yanked it open and strode into the room.

"What seems to be the matter, Miss Granger?"

She noticed the formal use of her name immediately and glanced quickly around the room. Severus Snape was standing beside the stone cabinet that she knew usually stored the Headmaster's pensieve. It was empty.

"Headmaster, where has your penseive gone?" despite the firm shake of his head, she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

"Do you think it wise Headmaster that Miss Granger should be aware of such antiquities?"

"Now, Severus, there is no harm. It is an interesting artefact and one who is so curious as Miss Granger is, wouldn't fail to notice it."

Snape sneered in his disapproving way, "Playing favourites again are we Headmaster. What did you need Miss Granger?"

"Oh," Hermione was nearly thrown for a moment but quickly recovered. "I was just asked to advise the Headmaster that the Prefect's meeting was at lunchtime today."

Blue eyes flashed for a moment before the Headmaster responded, "I see. Well any missed meetings will need to be made up for at the first available opportunity."

Hermione nodded, "Well…..um, I'd better go…." she hurried out of the room.

"Have you thought that she might be the culprit Albus?"

"Miss Granger…no."

"Then what about Mr Potter?"

"I would know if either one of them had been in my office unannounced Severus."

"They both knew of it! And very few do."

"Knowledge of the item isn't proof of the crime Severus, otherwise I could also cast the blame on Minerva and….you," his voice dropped at the last word.

"You think it was me!" Severus hissed. "I am a master occlumens and have no need for such a thing."

"You do have a ….chequered past Severus."

"I swear, that I have never taken a single item from your office Albus!" Snape vowed, in a quick flash of silver.

"Ah…" the Headmaster seemed disappointed. "Well I guess if it wasn't you then you may go," he dismissed his potions professor.

Worryingly Harry was not at transfiguration. During the break that followed, Percival returned to the Gryffindor common room. It was empty. He took the stairs two at a time. Pushing the door to the dorm room open, he noticed Harry's curtains were pulled around his bed.

"Harry." He walked over and pulled them slightly apart.

Harry was lying on his side facing away from the opening, legs pulled up, and head buried under his pillow. His jagged breathing gave away the sobs that Percival could not hear. Slowly he climbed onto the bed and pulled the curtains closed behind him. A hand was ever so lightly placed on the smaller boy's shoulder. The chest stopped for a worryingly long period of time, before another silent jagged inhalation was seen.

"Harry," this time Percival gave that thin shoulder a gentle shake. When there was no response he reached out and tugged on the pillow. It gave way revealing a devastatingly tear stained face. Percival crawled over the boy to lie on the other side of his friend.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

With a wave of a hand sound was returned to the small space.

"Do…do…you hate me now?"

An arm snaked around the boy's neck and pulled his head into Percival's chest, "Never." It sounded like a promise.

"I'm sorry that I forgot. We've had so much on," Percival whispered into Harry's hair. "I can understand why you're so angry."

"But that's the thing, I'm not!"

"Then do you want to tell me what happened?" He squeezed tighter trying to offer reassurance.

"I…I….just felt so angry. I wanted to …..I wanted to bite you or something. It seemed to come out of no-where. This is what I was trying to tell Addison. I…I'm scared. I feel like I'm going crazy. I came back here to try and call Sirius, then I remembered that he would be at the Ministry and anyway I don't want him to have to worry about this as well."

With a quick roll out of bed Percival went to his trunk and retrieved two crystal phials, before lying back down again.

"Think about what happened," he instructed and placed his wand to on Harry's temple, drawing forth the silver strand of a memory which he deposited into one of the phials. He then repeated the process himself. "We can send these along with a letter to Addison through your post-box. I believe it is probably feedback through the horcrux. You've missed the last couple of nights of meditation, haven't you?"

The head which was resting against his chest once more nodded.

"Been so tired, I've fallen asleep without meaning to."

"How about we talk to Snape and see if he will let you off…"

"No!" The black head shot up and red-rimmed eyes locked onto black. "No. He already thinks I'm arrogant and lazy!"

"I think that is a long way in the past." Seeing the bitten lip and the clear 'I've got something to prove' look in the green eyes, he offered another suggestion. "What about Quidditch? Can we talk to Angelina about you taking a couple of practices off, just until the harvesting is finished?"

"Can't," Harry dropped his head back onto what he now noticed was a rather warm firm chest. "First game is in two weeks."

"They could get someon…" Percival nearly laughed at Harry's horrified expression. "Or maybe not. I guess I could always remind you every night."

Placing his hands on Percival's chest Harry pushed himself away and rolled onto his back. "McGonagall is going to be mad isn't she?"

"She did notice your lack of attendance. Though you can probably get away with claiming to be ill. I can let Snape know if you need more time."

With a groan Harry dragged himself up into sitting. "Can't miss potions."

"Go wash your face, I'll sort our bags."

Harry and Percival slipped into the dungeon classroom just before Snape slammed the door shut.

"Cutting it fine gentlemen," he murmured barely moving his lips as they moved passed him. Louder he said, "Five points each and detention this evening for tardiness. Once again, I must remind you that the joyous occasion of those who score less than an Outstanding on the Owls leaving us, is fast approaching. Such lack of regard for this class will only diminish the likelihood of you achieving that a lofty goal." He turned his patented sneer on the two boys who had just entered the room and were sliding into the vacant seats at the table next to Ron and Hermione, at the back of the classroom.

With a flick of his wand, words began appearing on the blackboard at the front of the room.

"The instructions for today's potion are on the board. Ensure you follow them exactly, failure to do so is likely to have detrimental effects to the health of everyone in the room!" the stern professor warned.

Harry leaned towards Percival, "I can't read it from this distance, his writing is too small." The whisper earnt him a glare from Hermione.

A moment later a list scribbled on a piece of parchment was passed to him, "I'll get the ingredients from the store and you set up the cauldrons."

Harry moved to do as he was bid. He quickly lifted both cauldrons onto the table and bent to Percival's bag to retrieve his tool kit. A glance at the list showed that today they needed the crystal stirring rod which was less reactive than the pewter one they usually used. As he placed Percival's bag, back down he noticed a battered copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ sitting on the top of Hermione's book bag. It was odd as the text they had been using was one book earlier in the unimaginatively titled series, _Intermediate Potion Making_. He made a note to discuss it with Percival.

The rest of the class passed without incident as even the Slytherins weren't willing to risk their own health merely for the pleasure of sabotaging the Gryffindors Potions grade. For once even Neville produced a passable potion. It was actually rather relaxing, especially as Snape didn't say a word about Percival helping Harry by writing out the instructions.

With the anxiety Harry felt waiting to hear something from Sirius the peace achieved by a calm potions class didn't last. By that afternoon Harry couldn't sit still.

"Really Harry you need to calm down, you'll hear something when it's over." They were all sure that Ron was trying to be reassuring, the awkward thumping on Harry's back was the giveaway.

"He's been stuck in the ministry cell for a week now. If they take him to Azkaban, I'll never see him again. We won't even be able to say goodbye. Last time they just took him away with no warning, what if they do that again? What if they have him kissed right there? What if someone sneaks in and hurts him? He can't protect himself, they've still got his wand!"

"Breathe Harry," Neville said. "Your Aunt Sera's letter said it all seemed to be going well. They've looked at all the evidence so now we just have to wait for their decision."

"I'd feel better if I could just talk to him," Harry pouted.

Ron and Neville each threw an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"We wish we could help mate, but…." Ron shrugged, "it's illegal to break into the Ministry."

"Here, Harry," Hermione spoke from beside Ron, making Harry jump. "I wanted to talk to you."

"What's the matter, Hermione?"

"I'm worried about you," she actually sounded concerned which made Harry pause. "I…I know I've been kind of pushy, with your homework and everything. I see now that the way I've been handling things is wrong. I wanted to apologise. It's just this is a big year. I know you want to go on and be an Auror. But to achieve that you're going to have to work really hard, especially because you need to be able to take your Potions NEWT, which you've never done really well at. I guess I was just trying to make sure you didn't fall behind."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry smiled at his once best friend. "I actually seem to be doing a bit better this year, and I've not turned in a single assignment late, and Snape hasn't banished my potion once."

"You were late for class today though," she pried. "And you missed transfiguration."

"Yes, I wasn't feeling well. Actually, that reminds me, I'd best go and see McGonagall. Ron do you want to come with me?" Harry changed topic and hurried away with the red-head in tow. Neville watched through narrowed eyes as Hermione also turned and walked away.

Hermione ducked around the corner and leaned against the cold stone wall. Closing her eyes. Where had it all gone wrong? She had been doing so well. The books she had been given allowed her to stay ahead of the rest of the class, not to mention they were interesting even if they were becoming darker. Lately there were more serious books like the _Macabre book of Monsters_, and _Hexes of the Nineteenth Century_, which had a dark oily feel to it. Still she just couldn't put them down, and Dumbledore obviously thought she could handle them. She had felt so great, so important as the guiding light in Harry's life. So clever, even Lupin had called her the smartest witch of the age.

Hermione sighed, then something had happened. It started with the books in her trunk, the ones she had been warned not to leave at home, they had mysteriously disappeared one day. Some of them had only been on loan and she had had to try and explain the loss. That had been an awful conversation. The one today was just as bad. She could practically feel the disappointment dripping off the Headmaster and had vowed to do better, next time she would skip the Prefects meeting. Most annoyingly, Harry just didn't seem to want to cooperate anymore. Normally he had been completely compliant, willing to do whatever she asked and to go wherever she led. Now he wouldn't listen to her at all and he argued! He argued well, even she had to admit that some of the things he said made sense, but Albus Dumbledore had said that Harry was lying and so that was that.

It had all started with the arrival of Percival Graves. There was something going on there, his appearance right at that moment in time was decidedly suspicions. Personally, Hermione thought he must be a Death Eater, and controlling Harry some way. While Harry's arguments against the Confundus and Imperius curses were valid, there was more than one way to control a Wizard. In fact, a note on the side of one of the pages of potions book she had been given that morning, hinted at a potion that was the equivalent of a liquid imperius. Perhaps that was it. She would have to find some way of slipping Harry a cleansing potion, the way he had been acting he would never take one voluntarily.

Now that she thought about it, Percival had been around when her books went missing. Hmm, that might be worth looking into. The one thing Hermione did know was that continued disappointment wasn't going to be tolerated. Soon, very soon, there were going to be consequences and they were likely to be severe.

"How are you going with the latest History Assignment Harry?" the feminine voice drifted over the group. Harry looked up from where he had been talking Dennis through one of the spells in his text book. Things had warmed between them slightly but the friendship they'd had was definitely lost.

"Sorry Hermione, I'm busy at the moment." Harry turned back to the task at hand. "So, the wand action is a circular motion that ends with a forward jab."

"Like this?" Dennis demonstrated.

"Not bad, relax your grip slightly and again," Harry encouraged patiently. Percival looked up from the arithmancy notes he had been going over with Dennis' older brother, Colin and couldn't help smiling at the sight.

"Harry, your homework is important," there was a thready tension in her voice now. "You need to get yours done first, before helping anyone else."

"My homework is done Hermione, and I am helping Dennis with his at the moment. We'll be finished in about half an hour, if you want to hang out then," the dark-haired boy explained patiently.

She sat on the couch with a huff, at least it wasn't a complete rejection. Percival glanced up again and caught the calculating expression on her face as she watched and waited. They had puzzled over the extra text book but couldn't rule out the possibility that she was just studying ahead. As the assigned text for sixth and seventh year, there had to be spare copies in the library. So, while it was unusual it wasn't inherently suspicious. Besides a quick check with Dobby reassured the boys that it wasn't a book from the Potter library. He wondered what exactly she was up to, the sudden change in attitude seemed out of character.

"There you go Dennis, you've got it now. Just write up what we talked about and reference the text book and you're done. Twelve inches is just one sheet of A4 paper, which is hardly anything." The excitable boy bounced up, squeaking his thanks and hurried over to his friends who were gathered around a coffee table on the other side of the room. They bent their heads together and chatted excitedly as they did their work.

"Do you really think it's wise for you to be helping Dennis with his Homework Harry? I mean, what if you get it wrong and he fails because of you? How would you feel then?" Hermione asked, thinking she had a valid point as from what she knew Harry's marks hadn't been all that good in the past.

"Thanks for your confidence in my abilities Hermione," Harry said drily. A reflexive smile blossomed on her face, and Harry couldn't help but remember the times that she had stood beside him when no one else had. Perhaps there was something worth saving there after all., if they could just crack the attitude.

"How have you been Hermione?" he asked to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "How's being a prefect?"

"It's such a good opportunity," she started enthusiastically, and she began extolling all that was good about her prefects' duties. It lasted for all of five minutes before she began to complain. "But Allison Duchovny, you know the Head Girl? She's a Ravenclaw. Anyway, you'll never believe this, she got angry at me for having an appointment with the Headmaster, it's not like I can just rebook that you know. But she wouldn't listen. I ended up having to make my apologies to the Headmaster and he wasn't pleased. Just because that was the only time that everyone else was available for the next two weeks. We weren't even meeting about anything important, just the schedule for rounds. And that's another thing, how do they think we are going to have enough time to study if we are always doing rounds. I mean what are the teachers doing at that time? Surely they should be doing them instead!"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted. "The teachers do rounds as well, they just take the late ones, so that we can all make it back to the common room by curfew. They also have to mark all our assignments. It's not like we have to do rounds that often, its only once a week for us this year. The sixth years cope the brunt of it."

Hermione sniffed, "It's still two hours I could be studying. And what's this I hear about you forming a study group?"

Ron blushed, "Well I saw what Harry went through in first year and realised, that there really is nothing to help the Muggle born and raised students to acclimatise. The boys in our dorm were talking and we realised just how little Harry knew about the way things work. That's what started it."

"If Harry had bothered to pick up a book before the start of school, he wouldn't have had a problem," Hermione said dismissively.

"Oh, you mean the books that the Dursleys confiscated the moment I got home? I managed to hide one in my backpack before they were locked in the cupboard under the stairs. However, exactly which of the first-year text books would have helped me learn about how the Wizengamut works, or told me about the floo, or which vaccinations I needed to have?"

That caused the fuzzy haired girl to pause, she had to be careful now, her list of books hadn't exactly matched the one given to everybody else, "I don't remember Harry that was five years ago! Still you could have looked it up any time since."

"Yes, I'm sure between finding the stone, the basilisk, the dementors and the tournament that I had plenty of time to look up the things that I never knew I needed to know. Anyway, it doesn't matter, I mentioned it would have been nice if someone had taken me aside and let me know where to find that information."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, so I spoke to the other prefects….."

"When was this? Why wasn't I invited?" Hermione demanded.

"You were invited," Ron snapped, before taking a deep breath and continuing more calmly. "You said you had study to do and as it wasn't a set meeting for all prefects you weren't interested. It was just the Gryffindors, but we have discussed it with the other houses as well. They already have something in place, and they were willing to give us the format that they use. After the first session with the first years they requested study groups, it grew from there."

"Why didn't you ask me to help? I'm the brightest witch of the age!"

"Yeah, your real smart Hermione," Ron ignored her preening. "But you have also been unavailable, every time we've had a meeting about it, you have either, already had something on or have declined in favour of studying."

She frowned, so that was what all those meetings were about, she had talked to Cho Chang who was the sixth-year prefect for Ravenclaw and been told that they didn't have extra meetings, so she had assumed that they weren't important and were just something that the Gryffindors were making up. "Well I want to be included next time," she demanded.

Ron nodded genially, "No problem. Have a think about what subject you're happy to tutor the first years in."

"First years?" she raised an eyebrow. "But Harry's been helping Dennis?"

"Yeah," Ron shrugged. "After we started working with the firsties, the other grades started asking if they could set one up too. But they had much more specific questions, so it was decided that we would have a list of mentors, based off marks and a willingness to assist. Harry does Defence and is back up for Charms, Neville does Herbology. Well I could go through the whole list but it's posted on the notice board. Each mentor has listed the times they are available to help."

"But….but I wasn't asked. I always score the best."

"Yeah, you used too, but the second component is willingness to help, and we haven't been able to find you to ask," the red-head shrugged.

"Oh, well sign me up."

Ron stood and removed the list from the notice board. "Right think about what subjects you are willing to help with and when you are free to offer assistance. Just write them in the column next to the subject."

Hermione eagerly grabbed the parchment and after scanning it briefly with a frown, started writing. It was really lucky that she had become involved, this would go a long way towards proving she deserved to be made Head Girl when the time came, and she couldn't believe the others already on the list. Clearly, they had just been letting anyone sign up as a mentor. Well that would be stopping now!

With a barely concealed snort Harry, turned back to the game of chess he had been playing with Ron. He was losing again, but that was hardly unusual. Four moves later and he had lost. Ron grinned and moved away to challenge Dean, leaving Harry with Hermione. She completed the list and walked over to pin it back on the notice board. As she sat back down, Harry wondered if she had finally understood what they had been trying to tell her. His thoughts were interrupted by the mirror vibrating in his pocket. "Um Hermione, it's been good to catch up, but I really need to head to bed." He faked a yawn. "After feeling unwell this morning, I should really have an early night." He haphazardly stuffed all his work into his bag and practically ran from the room.

Hermione leaned back in her chair, with a huff. That interaction had undoubtedly been better, but it still wasn't back to what it was. Maybe she should hold off on the plan to give Harry the cleanser. One thing was certain, if he found out that she had spiked his morning pumpkin juice with a potion, he would never trust her again.

As soon as he was in the dorm Harry, threw his bag onto the ground, jumped on his bed, pulled the curtains and cast a ward to prevent anyone overhearing. He ripped the mirror from his pocket and looked into it hopefully only to see Seraphina Picquery looking back at him. His stomach dropped like a stone.

"No!" he cried out, water pooling in his eyes.

"Harry, wait!" Aunt Sera called out, trying to distract him.

"Ah Shite Pup!" a more masculine voice broke through his despair.

"Sirius?!"

"Yeah, sorry Pup. I didn't think. I thought it would be funny to have Sera break the news to you. With all the evidence we had I didn't consider for a moment that you would assume that the verdict hadn't gone the way we wanted."

"So, it did? Go the way we wanted I mean," Harry asked hopefully.

"Yeah, Pup," Sirius reassured. "I am a free man. There will be an announcement in tomorrow's prophet. The Ministry is paying me some compensation and covering my continued treatment by Addison. I had a chat with McMillan, and he reckons that I shouldn't try for custody until treatment is finished. We will get my recovery signed off by an independent Healer before taking the paperwork in. That is if you still want me to, I know you've been getting on better with Petunia and Dudley. But have a think about it."

"Ok," Harry said softly. "So, you're really free? No joking? Really?"

"Yeah Pup, really, really."

The water that had cleared gathered again and ran down Harry's cheeks. "Harry, Pup! Why are you crying?"

"I'm so happy!"

"Yeah me too." Neither one mentioned the tears that flowed from Sirius' eyes either.

"Could….do you think we could….um….I want to see Aunt Petunia but maybe I could…" Harry sniffed, and swiped his hands across his face. "I think I would like to live with you, I just want to be able to see want Petunia and Dudley sometimes."

"Sure, thing kiddo," Sirius' face split in a grin. "I'll get Sera to mention it in her next letter."

"Aunt Sera has been writing to her?"

"Yeah, just general stuff. Now tell me what has been going on?"

Harry was glad that Percival had started teaching him Occlumency. It had taken an hours' worth of meditation before he stilled his mind enough to finally manage to fall asleep. Which meant that despite the excitement of the news he was able to get up early the next morning and sitting in the Great Hall, waiting eagerly for the owls to fly in with the mail. Harry had of course let Percival in on the secret before going to bed, but Sirius had said that it would be announced in the mornings paper so today was the day that they could finally tell Neville that Sirius was Snuffles. Ron and Neville had still been deeply asleep as Harry had made his way out of the dorm, but Percival had stirred and had promised he would come down as soon as he had showered, knowing that there was no way Harry would have the patience to wait for the others to be ready.

Harry looked around, it was rather peaceful sitting in the Great Hall, watching the rose-coloured sunrise. He wondered what everyone would make of the announcement. At least Ron and Neville would be pleased. Dumbledore would surely be glad he had another wand available in the fight against Riddle and Hermione would be pleased that justice had finally been served.

"Dobby, could I have some tea please?" Harry asked politely. With a soft clink a teapot and mug appeared in front of him. "Thanks." It only took a moment to pour then he sat, starring into the brown liquid with his hands wrapped around the cup. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fragrant steam rising from his mug, trying to still he whirling emotions.

"You are out and about early Potter," Harry startled, and nearly spilled his tea.

"Morning Professor," his green eyes lifted to meet the obsidian ones.

"If I didn't know better, I would assume you were up to something," Severus arched an eyebrow.

Harry smiled good naturedly, "Perhaps I am Sir, but if only pranksters are awake at this hour. What have you been up to?"

"Unfortunately, it falls to myself as the responsible adult present to try and stop Dunderheads from harming themselves in their blatant disregard for the rules."

"Oh, I didn't realise there was a rule about being up so early," Harry frowned. "I'm usually awake at this time at home, so I just came down here. It's so much calmer than the common room."

For a moment it looked as if Severus was going to say something.

"It is indeed," Professor Dumbledore's booming voice interrupted them as he pushed open the double doors to the hall. "Now Severus I think we can forgive Harry if he acts out a little this morning." He frowned sadly, "I believe that we shall hear the results of poor Sirius' trial. If you need to take the day off Harry, just make sure you catch up on your work."

"Um, Professor, there is every chance that Sirius was cleared," Harry said.

"A positive attitude, that's the ticket!" Dumbledore flashed a grin for just a moment before resuming the sad expression. As he turned to walk away, he muttered, "Poor deluded boy, tut, tut."

"Potter," Severus started hesitantly.

"It's okay Professor, I spoke to my Godfather last night."

"Last night?" the slight tightening around Snape's eyes made him seem momentarily shocked.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, before calmly taking a sip of his tea.

Black eyes flicked towards the head table where Dumbledore was seated, humming to himself as he took a pancake off the stack that had appeared in front of him and liberally anointed it with syrup.

"Perhaps a detention is in order?"

Harry nodded, "Sure, I'll figure something out for potions, we should probably include Percival."

"Indeed."

Not long after that the room began to fill with students. As he drank his second cup of tea, Harry watched them. It seemed that the later it became the rowdier the students were. At some intervening time, Percival had joined him, placing a plate loaded with bacon and eggs in front of Harry with a pointed look.

"Thanks," Harry returned to student watching as he began to eat.

By the time the owls flew through the windows, Harry was surrounded. Percival and Ron sat on either side of him, with Neville, Dean, and Seamus on the opposite side.

Hermione who was sitting next to Ron said, "You'll be happy to know that have I now got a subscription to the Daily Prophet."

"Good for you," Ron shovelled a spoonful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

Hedwig landed in front of Harry, she was carrying both a copy of the Daily Prophet and a letter. Harry praised her and relieved her of her burdens.

"Thanks, beautiful girl. Are you going hunting today?" she cooed in response. "Ah tonight. That's fair. Go and have a sleep now." She hopped over and butted him with her head, before flying off.

A quick glance identified the sender of the letter to be Dudley, so Harry tucked it into his bag to read later and unrolled the Prophet.

"Pftttt!" A spout of tea was spat across the table.

"'Ermione!" Seamus complained, reaching for a napkin to mop his face.

"Sorry Seamus," the bookworm blushed.

"What's so shocking?" Dean asked.

"Sirius Black was cleared of all charges!"

That she seemed baffled, confused Harry. Had she not pay attention in Third year? He glanced quickly at the teacher's table. Dumbledore was as still as stone and paling fast. Harry nudged Percival and nodded in the Headmaster's direction.

"Do you think he's having a stroke?"

Percival, glanced up and then back to Harry with a look of confusion on his face, "Stroke?"

"Oh, maybe Wizards don't have them. We learnt about them at school. Um, it's an event which stops blood getting to areas of the brain leading to parts of it dying."

The explanation didn't help Percival at all. "He certainly looks shocked. Which is decidedly odd, as he knows that Sirius is innocent. One thing is for sure, something deeper is going on here. If the Headmaster had plans that involved Sirius being incarcerated, who knows what he will do now."

Harry looked at him sharply, "You don't think he would hurt him, do you?"

"I don't know, but perhaps it would be wise to warn him to take extra care."

"Maybe we can get Snape to pass a message on for us when we get detention tonight?"

Percival nodded his agreement as they stood and made their way to class.


	13. Chapter 13

It started as a soft glow, growing in brightness gradually until it would have eclipsed a small sun. That was when Sirius noticed the shine spilling out of the library, through the parlour and into the hall.

"What the…" the knut dropped. "It is done." He grinned. "Kreacher it has finished!"

He walked briskly (for The Black Lord would never be so crass as to run) into the library, where the leather-bound book was innocently lying open to the first page. With a shaky hand he grabbed a quill and wrote a single word onto the page, watching as the ink was absorbed into the parchment, disappearing entirely.

The glow flared again briefly before a short list, merely five books, appeared. With a word they were summoned from the shelves. Another short phrase was inscribed. A pause. Glow. A dozen more books were summoned.

Sirius retired to the wing-backed chair that was positioned in front of the library fireplace, a spare roll of parchment, quill and ink on the side table. Kreacher was called and asked to provide chocolate, and an array of light foods, like fruit, and water. It would not do to read these books unprepared.

The dark-haired man paused as he opened the first, forewarned by the black miasma it exuded, and quilled two missives. Sending them off with the Elf. Now at least if something went wrong, someone would know where to find him.

'Clink'

'Pt'

With a swish of skirts Petunia made her way to collect the letter.

"Anything interesting Pet?" Vernon asked from the kitchen, where he sat reading the morning paper.

She paused for a moment before hastily tucking the letter into a pocket. "N..nothing dear just a letter from Veronica, apparently they are planning another trip or Majorca."

Vernon grunted.

"Now what would you like for breakfast dear? There's some of the muesli that the Doctor recommended, or perhaps you'd like some greek yoghurt, with the berries I got at the market yesterday?"

"Bacon and eggs on toast. I need the kind of food that fills a man not that rabbit food you eat," he sniffed.

"The Doctor says it's good for your heart dear."

Vernon merely grunted again, sipped his coffee and returned his attention to the paper.

For the first time in her married life, after her husband left for work that morning, Petunia did not stand gossiping over the fence nor did she make any attempt to talk to the other ladies in the street and enquire how their children and families were. Instead she retreated to her kitchen, made a fresh pot of tea and withdrew the letter from her Nephew from her pocket.

Sipping her tea, she wondered at how odd it was that she felt proud of the boy. His life at school sounded so normal, she knew he must have been editing some things for her and she appreciated his effort. There were complaints about grumpy teachers and too much homework. There was a comment about him tutoring some of the younger students. It could easily have been a letter from her Dudley. She let out a disgruntled snort, now he would be getting a phone call if he didn't write to his mother soon!

Petunia rifled through the kitchen drawer to find a notepad and pen.

_Dear Harry,_

_Thank you for writing. If you write to Dudley, feel free to remind him to contact his Mother occasionally._

_All is well here in Surrey, though I am having some difficulty keeping Vernon on the diet that his Doctor prescribed. He seems so irritated all the time lately, that I don't dare tell him about your letter._

_I can't remember much about Lily's time at that school, but I know that a lack of tutoring, especially in the early years, was something she complained about heartily. Along with not being able to continue with her normal school lessons like maths and science, because they didn't offer anything of the sort. I don't suppose that has changed over the years as the community did seem rather insular. She used to come home in the summer and pinch my books, if you can believe it. If you wanted to do the same, continue with your studies that is, I could send you a copy of Dudley's book list and the brochure from the bookshop we purchased his from. I believe they do mail order. It's just a thought._

_Well I must go and arrange something suitable for Vernon's dinner._

_Take Care_

_Aunt Petunia._

With a click of the pen, Petunia tucked the letter from Harry away in the box she kept his correspondence in that was hidden under the sink, then she folded her letter and slid it into an envelope. She would post it while she was at the shop.

Perhaps the butcher would have a leg of lamb she could roast for dinner. That would surely pick up Vernon's spirits.

Harry groaned and stretched his back. He was sitting cross legged on the floor of the common room, books and parchment spread out on the table that he was using as a desk. He wondered if he had taken a bit too much on, trying to catch up on both Runes and Arithmancy. It was Runes that he had a problem with at the moment. He would have asked Percival for assistance, but he was up in the dormitory helping Neville find his magical core.

"You've made a bit of a mess there, Harry!"

He looked up at the Gryffindor chaser, Katie Bell, with a smile.

"Yeah, it seems to have grown a mind of its own and gotten away from me."

"I seen you helping some of the third and fourth years. You know it's alright for you to ask for help as well."

"Yeah. I normally ask Perce, but he's a bit busy tonight."

With a glance she asked if she could look at his work, he shrugged and passed her the page that she was working on,

"Do you do Runes?" Seeing her nod, he continued, "I'm having a problem linking this rune chain…." he pointed at the parchment.

"Hmmmmm."

Percival stood at the top of the stairs, starring down into the common room, Harry was sitting close to a dark-haired girl he knew was on the Quidditch team. They were practically leaning on each other, their heads bent together as they talked quickly, etching figures onto the parchment in front of them. He squashed down the bile rising twist of possessiveness from his gut. For goodness sake, he was a thirty-nine-year man and Harry was a fifteen-year-old boy! Harry would hardly be interested in… '_You are fifteen years old in body and mind it is only your soul that is older, can you say that my Master is any different?' _ That made him pause and re-examine the situation. He had never thought of Harry this way before. As an object that could be owned, possessed and one that he did not deserve. Why was he starting to now? Percival spun on his heel and re-entered the dormitory, quickly isolating and warding himself within the confines of his bed. Fortunately, it appeared Neville must have fallen straight to sleep after his Occlumency practice, as the room was utterly silent.

He turned his wand on himself, "…..revelare." Nothing.

Closing his eyes, he felt for his magic, noting the silver of his core was now edged in gold. It took a close inspection of each individual vessel that channelled the magic from his core before he found it. There! A thread of grey, that was camouflaged against the silver. He looked at it closely…..a compulsion? No, it wasn't that strong. A suggestion nothing more, just enough to manipulate his thinking. He inspected it thoroughly from all angles before griping it with a tendril of his magic and tugging it free from where it was hooked into his core. As it came away it dissipated into the ether. It would have taken a very knowledgeable and powerful mage to have attached that spur to his magic without him noticing. Which given he had been in contact with so few adult witches and wizards, left him with a limited number of options. Only two came to mind. Though Sirius could have been a third if it hadn't been for his long incarceration. And if they had tagged him, what were the chances that they had also tagged Harry? Percival came back to himself with a frown and a sigh, apparently there was another skill he was going to have to teach Harry.

A moment later he retraced his steps out of the dorm, pausing at the top of the stairs to note that he was able to watch Harry interact with his friend without jealousy tainting his perception. Admittedly there was a slight twist still there when he heard her ask, "Harry, did you want to come to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Though the blush and stutter that the question induced was adorable. Harry looked so utterly uncomfortable.

"Ah….ah…."

Katie laughed, "Not like that Silly!" She slapped him gently on the arm, Percival's gut unwound. "The team is going together. We noticed how much study you've been doing and I'm afraid if you don't come voluntarily, Fred and George are planning on kidnapping you, possibly by turning you into a parrot. You need a break."

Percival could practical hear Harry's sigh of relief.

"Oh no, I'm Ok Katie. Really."

"Harry, not even Oliver worked as hard as you have been and then you've had all those detentions with Snape. Don't think we haven't noticed that. Maybe you should talk to Professor McGonagall about it, it just isn't right."

Harry huffed a laugh, "When has she ever done anything to intervene with Snape's treatment of anybody? It doesn't matter anyway, they're finished now, and I've been getting tutored in potions so I should be able to avoid too many more." It was an easy lie to tell as it was partly true and it hid the fact that he and the Professor had actually been working together.

"Good. But you still need to relax a bit. Madame Rosemerta does a basket of food. We were going to get one and take it up into the hill overlooking the town and have a picnic." She grinned suddenly, "Come on, you can even bring Percival!"

"I…I…," Harry dropped his head, giving in to his team mate. "Fine, I'll see if he wants to come."

"Excellent, well with a project like that I can't imagine you'll have any problem with your Runes OWL."

"A break would be good for you Harry," Percival's baritone fell over the pair. Harry raised his eyes and smiled. "I would be happy to come with you. I haven't had the chance to see Hogsmeade as yet."

"I thought you…" Harry flushed pink at having been caught talking about his friend.

"We finished early. Neville has got to do the next stage on his own. Though to be honest I think he just went to sleep."

"Right, well….." Katie said awkwardly. "I'll just goooooo," she practically bolted over to the couch where the other chasers were sitting.

With a quirky smile Percival crossed his legs and sat down. "How is the study going?"

Harry passed his work over for approval, nervously running his fingers over the hem of his shirt, while Percival checked.

"Harry….."

"Mmm.."

"This is brilliant….A ward that is not only a shield but translocates the attackers to another location…it's incredible."

"And see here," Harry pointed out an inverted rune, "I think by adding this, it will convert the power of the attack into the force of the eviction, so to speak. So the harder they attack the further away they'll be transported, for a given value of power. Below that power level it will be converted into additional strength in the shield. Potentially it could be overloaded. Which would hypothetically cause a catastrophic failure of the ward resulting in a rather large explosion which could kill everyone within a five-mile radius." Harry grinned happily.

"Um..Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"How much power would it take to overload the ward?"

"Well that depends on the substrate that the runes are engraved into and the power of the person setting up and activating the ward. It could potentially be increased by the addition of magical blood as well, turning into a pseudo-ritual, which I think would at least triple the amount of power required. I should think if it was used to protect a family home, embedded into the foundations of the building, using blood and family casting to activate it that it would nearly impenetrable."

"On average how much power Harry?"

"Well I would expect with runes inscribed on granite and an average witch or wizard casting that it would take the power of ten average wizards casting simultaneously to collapse it. If it was engraved on crystal that would increase to twenty, obsidian about thirty and diamond roughly forty. Obviously, the cost of a large enough piece of diamond to engrave the runes into would be prohibitive."

Percival continued to stare at the parchment, "What's this?" he tapped a diagram in the top right-hand corner of the parchment.

"Well, I had the thought that if you created a secondary ward structure within and totally separate to the first, with its own ward stone. It would protect anything inside the first should the first one fail. The explosion would be mostly an outward force. They would of course need to be slightly seperated, but I should think a distance of a yard or two would do. You see…"

"Huh. Harry, you are not thinking of submitting this for your OWL project, are you?"

"Well…."

"Harry this needs to be tested and protected. It could have a very real impact on the war. If the wrong person gets a hold of it however, they will be able to find a way around it or worse, use it as a weapon. Heck even after the war, you could set up a warding business."

"Well I do also have this," Harry passed Percival a second piece of parchment.

After perusing it for a minute, he frowned, "It is a flashing light."

"Yeah," Harry smiled, "but by tapping the stone or whatever you are using it can turn the light on and off."

"Harry the Wizarding world already has lights that work that way."

"Yeah, that's partly where the idea came from. However, these project the light up to two hundred yards and produce a signal which can be picked up on the matching device and converted to an audible beep."

"So, it is an annoying light?"

"And this," he flipped the page over. "Is the receiver so that if it is within fifty miles of the sender it can detect the signal sent out by the first signal and will mimic it. Though potentially the range could be extended but I haven't figured that bit out yet."

"So, it is a pair of annoying lights?" Percival really didn't get the point.

Harry nodded with a grin, "Yes and they are on their own dedicated channel so to speak, so that they can't be picked up by the Wizarding World Wireless, Muggle radio stations or any other device, except the sender receiver pair.

"Very clever, but what is the point Harry?"

"Have you ever heard of Morse code?"

Percival stared at his friend, "What….you don't think I should use that one either?" Harry looked disheartened.

"Tell me this, can you have more than one receiver per sending device?"

"Yes, I can set it up so that each device can act as either a sender or receiver. There would be a limit, but I'd actually have to make some to test that out."

"But you could have one that acts as a base of command, sending messages to multiple other units that are at remote locations?"

"Yeah….Oh… right…" Harry frowned, "but now I need to think of something else," he whined.

"Given what you have done so far, I don't think you are going to have any trouble at all Harry."

But Harry was already staring into the fire with an unfocussed gaze.

"What if….." he pulled a piece of parchment close and began sketching runes. "I could shrink the rune cluster for the ward, so that it could surround a much smaller device and then if I converted the inverted power rune…..no combined it, with this one for magic, then magic would be converted into power…I wonder if runes would take to plastic? or…."

Percival just smiled as Harry's words drifted off as he focussed on what he was doing with his hands. He drew a book out of his bag. He may as well get his homework done while he was keeping his friend company.

Delores Jane Umbridge was beginning to get annoyed, no, she had been annoyed for some time. She was beginning to get frustrated. Her every move was being thwarted. She had tried to get that little runt into detention, but he just wasn't doing what she had expected. Malfoy Senior had told her that the brat had difficulty controlling his temper and it should be easy to push him into exploding. She had looked forward to it. But he just wouldn't. He just sat in class like a limpet. Reading his book as he was supposed to. Not arguing at all! Oh, there had been the odd occasion where something she had said had hit a nerve and his eyes would practically glow with fury but a moment later, he would relax again, and dare she say it, look peaceful? It was most vexing.

Well it was time to up her game. He couldn't be allowed to continue on in this fashion. The only redeemable thing about the whole damn situation was the potions professor. He had had the boy in detention nearly every night from the start of the year and it was now well into October. Perhaps she should approach the man and see how he had done it. Still cleaning cauldrons, was not enough punishment for the boy who had ridiculed her Cornelius. No, no, no, he needed something far worse than that, something that would impress upon the little worm, just how low he was in the scheme of things. He may have found a way to get the Prophet to issue an apology, but he wouldn't be doing the same thing to her Cornelius.

The lines she had had the various other children writing out the moment they had supported the miscreant had worked wonderfully. Those two little mudbloods had barely said boo, in her class ever since. Yes, perhaps that would work on him as well. With a vindictive smirk, she headed to the Great Hall, determined to sit next to Snape. It was time she found out how he had done it.

An hour later and Delores remained furious. There was no great secret! Merely, botched potions, cheek, and some bickering with other classmates. Pftt, that wouldn't do at all. He barely said a word in her class, mind you she kept an orderly class, so not one of the students spoke. His homework was always in on time, and he read the chapters as designated as did the rest of the class. Truthfully, the fifth year Gryffindor class was her most obedient. It was a puzzle, where were the rowdy rebellious teens that had been around in her youth? Well, if he wasn't going to step out of line in her class, perhaps she just needed to change where the lines were, yes. It was time to have a word with Cornelius!

Because the rendering of the basilisk was finally complete, they had let a few days go by between detentions. This also served to quieten down the protests that Severus was beginning to hear from the other teachers, mainly Flitwick and Sprout. Today however he had news.

"All together the carcass weighed one hundred and seven metric tonnes. Comprising of the skin, meat, bones, and internal organs," he began somewhat stiffly. "These will be auctioned off with the three shed skins that we discovered in the entry to the chamber, over four auctions, which will be open to potions Masters worldwide. The eye strings and heart strings have been placed aside along with the seven hundred and fifty-nine litres of toxin, and a variety of loose scales and will be auctioned off to wand makers and potions masters alike. All auctions will be by invitation only with each Master and Craftsman heavily vetted by Gringotts, which is where the auctions will be held. I believe you are aware that Gringotts is charging you two percent per auction for the privilege. As you know the first of the auctions was last night."

He took a deep breath and swallowed, "In this first auction they released twenty metric tonnes of meat, one shed skin, measuring twenty feet in total length, a further twenty feet of fresh skin, and a quarter of all the internal organs. They advise me that bidding was fierce, especially amongst the dwarves of Switzerland, where the meat is considered a delicacy. Some lots reached twenty galleons per pound. The cumulative financial outcome was eight hundred and fifty thousand galleons, sixty-seven sickles and two knuts. This was the smallest of the auctions."

Harry's jaw flapped in the breeze, until Percival closed it for him.

"Uh….well that's just…..Wow!"

"Indeed."

"So, your contact and Gringotts get tweety-five thousand five hundred galleons between them. Percival gets forty-two thousand, five hundred. And you receive one hundred and seventy thousand! Just from this one auction."

"Mmmm, not quite enough for retirement at my age, but at least I have hope I will not have to teach Dunderheads for ever. Do not forget, you yourself will receive in the order of six hundred and twelve thousand galleons."

"But….." Harry looked lost, "It's too much."

"If it is bothering you, then your plan to help the school has merit. The desks for the potions classroom cost two thousand galleons each, and twenty or so training brooms plus another twenty-eight brooms for the quidditch teams, won't come cheap either."

"Should I give some to Ron? After all he helped," Harry asked.

"That's up to you Harry, how much did he help?"

"Well he came with me to get Lockhart, and down the slide, and then he looked after Lockhart and started to open the pathway so that we could get back through."

"What do you think would be fair?"

"Um, Perce?"

"I was not there Harry. I cannot make this decision for you."

"Ok, I think he should get the same as you. Because he looked after me too."

"Knowing Molly, he will not yet have his own Gringotts account so you will need to open one for him."

"I'll talk to the twins about it or maybe Striknott." That was the best plan, Harry thought, he could send a letter via his mail box, and no one would ever know. Striknott could send Harry back a key, and Harry could give it to Ron for his Birthday or Christmas or something.

"Professor Snape?" Harry asked after a moment silence. "Do you know what has Umbridge so ….upset Professor?"

"I dare not think on it," Snape shook his head. "I try to avoid the woman as much as possible, she really is intolerable. Though if I had to make a guess, she wants to get you into detention. She cornered me at breakfast this morning. I completely lost my appetite! She was enquiring how I managed to give you so many detentions. "

"You should try having class with her! With the way she has been carrying on I really wanted to snot her one."

"Be careful Potter there are rumours. Rumours of what she is doing in detentions and Albus is doing nothing to reign her in," Severus warned.

"Yeah, she did something to Dennis Creevey last week, but we haven't been able to find out what yet. Thanks for the distraction by the way Perce." Harry blushed.

With a raised eyebrow Snape had to ask, "And what did young Mr Graves do, that prevented you from responding in your usual churlish manner?"

With a cough and a deepening of his blush, "Nothing important."

"Hmm, I believe that I must relay this to your Godfather. I'm sure he will get the story out of you." He gave a chuckle, "The next auction will not be for six to eight months, which will give us time to investigate the rest of the chamber. Therefore, your detention for this evening is complete. You may go."

The two boys barely waited for the Fat Lady to open the portal, before rushing into the common room. They collapsed laughing onto a couch.

"What happened to you?" asked Hermione.

"We had detention with Snape and finished not long before curfew. Filch, caught sight of us on the ground floor, we've sprinted all the way back, and yes…" Harry quickly checked the time, "Made it just in the nick of time!" he finished exuberantly.

The expression on Hermione's face clearly showed how much she wanted to chide them, but they hadn't actually done anything wrong, so she didn't have an excuse.

She settled for saying, "Well you had best get started on your Homework then."

Surprisingly they did as she suggested for once, and soon were joined by Neville and Ron.

"You know," Hermione said slyly. "I don't see how we are going to pass Defence Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge teaching it the way she does. How are we ever going to get in enough practice on the practical content?"

"Mmmm," Harry nodded without paying much attention. Honestly, he didn't actually pay attention in the class either. He scanned the appropriate chapter of Slinkhard's book the night before, so he knew what it was about if questioned, then glamoured another of his texts to take into class and read that instead.

"Harry and I have been running through the spells that have been listed in the copies of the OWL exams available on archive in the library Hermione. Anyone can access them, so I can't see that there will be a problem," Neville said.

Hermione frowned, "They have old copies of the assessments available?"

"Yep, Luna told me the other week. It's only the OWLs and NEWTs though," he kept writing on his parchment.

"But…. that isn't right!"

"Oh, don't worry, they aren't all that recent," Ron chipped in. "They range from ten to forty years old. So, the spells won't be exactly the same, they're just a guide."

"But who will teach them to everyone else? We can't be expected to learn them if no-one teaches us!" Hermione demanded.

"I'm pretty sure that by now the teachers kind of expect us to be able to do that sort of research for ourselves we're not firsties."

"But you could teach us Harry, couldn't you? I'm sure you've had no problem with any of the spells."

"It's true that I haven't, but I'm too busy Hermione. I've had more detentions then I can count with Snape, quidditch practice, plus the mentoring. I just don't have time to take anything else on even if I did feel inclined to."

"But …. you owe….."

"What exactly does he owe to whom, Miss Granger?" Percival challenged in a clipped tone.

She didn't sense the danger, "For all the help he's received he owes everyone. He owes me!"

"What exactly does he owe you for?"

"He owes me for standing by him last year, when he put his name in that stupid goblet. He wouldn't have survived any of his little adventures if it hadn't been for me. He owes me for every year I've made him do his homework to my standard, he owes…"

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by the slamming of Harry's books as they hit the table, "I owe them nothing," Harry hissed. "They ridiculed me, teased me, pushed me down the stairs and tripped me in the halls, tearing my robes. And you! You pretended to support me but now I can tell you actually didn't! And for all the help you gave, if you had left me alone, I would have learnt it by myself sooner. And as for the adventures I only have two words- Mountain Troll!" Grabbing his bag, he stormed off to the dormitory.

"Well!" Hermione huffed indignantly. "I never! How could he say such a thing!"

"He said it because it's true Hermione," Neville said quietly, even though she glared at him the moment he opened his mouth. "I'm finished, so I'm going up to bed too."

Ron and Percival didn't say anything at all as they packed up the remaining things that had been left on the table and made their way to the dormitory, leaving a disbelieving Hermione staring after them.

By the time Percival had made his way up the stairs, Harry had shut himself in on his bed and sent the letter to Striknott about the division of the Basilisk funds and setting up a vault for Ron. It only took three minutes for the light on his mail box to indicate that he had received a reply. It advised that Ron would have to come into the bank at his earliest convenience and register his magic, so that it could be tied to his vaults. Apparently, they would need the twins after all.

Harry couldn't sleep. He waited until the room was silent, then peered out from between the curtains. The room was dark and still. Sliding out of his bed, feet cooling quickly on the stone floor, he made his way to the next bed. Reaching forth a shaky hand he twitched the curtains slightly.

"Harry?" Percival whispered.

"I can't sleep!"

The curtain opened an inch, "Come on before you let all the cold air in."

"Thanks," Harry crept up onto Percival's bed which was quickly enlarged. Green doe eyes were turned on Percival. "Do you think she was right? Do I …."

"If you even contemplate, finishing that sentence Harry, I will Silencio you, where you sit!"

"But…." a hand was placed across Harry's mouth effectively gagging him.

"No! They owe you. You saved them fourteen years ago, then they abandoned you to the Dursleys. They have done nothing but lie to you and about you since you arrived here. From what I can tell, I believe that Hermione was sabotaging your homework instead of helping. She may have had a point if she had been giving you assistance, but then she pretty much admitted to betraying your trust.."

"But so did Ron," Harry interjected quickly.

"Yeah, but he has tried to make amends for it this year, and he hasn't demanded you teach him defence either."

"I suppose not. I'm already helping Colin and Dennis. As well as studying with Nev, Ron, Fay and Alicia. Is that any difference to holding a study group?"

"It's about responsibility Harry. As it currently stands, everyone knows they are responsible for their own work, everyone helps each other equally. Hermione wants you to take on the responsibility for everyone, which means that should something go wrong, guess who will get the blame again?"

"Oh! Do you think it's deliberate on her part?"

"I honestly do not know. I … this thing that I am Harry….it's screaming at me to tell you no, don't do this! Something will go wrong, I just know it."

"Ok. I won't then. I trust you Percival."

"Have you practiced your Occlumency tonight Harry?"

With a sheepish blush Harry shock his head.

"Come on then," with one arm he pulled Harry down to lie next to him. "There is no time like the present. And it will probably help you to fall asleep after all the excitement."

Several minutes of meditation later and not a sound could be heard accept for the soft rumble of snores.

Remus Lupin was cold. He wondered, not for the first nor the last time, if Sirius had not been right. Maybe this was a suicide mission. It was hard to find pleasant thoughts about the Headmaster as he huddled up under a bush with his thread bare robes wrapped tightly around his body for meagre protection they offered him. He let out a curse as it began to rain. The pack he was aiming for was still some hundred or so miles away. They had moved on since the last time he had visited, and he was unfamiliar with the site so he couldn't apparate to their new location. As he had no broomstick, he really should have asked Sirius if he could have borrowed one, he had to make his way there by the only means possible (his own legs). It would be another week and a half for him to come into a range where he might pick up their wards if he was lucky. He sighed as thunder rolled over head, and the rain came down even harder. Yes, in moments like these it was quite easy to understand Sirius' view of Albus Dumbledore.

He had found it! At least he thought he had, he would need to talk to Addison first, and maybe Serverus…ah Snape that was. Yes, definitely Snape. Se…Snape would definitely know about dark rituals. Sirius, careful marked the place in his book, before sprinting to the floo. He had his hand in the floo pot before he had even registered that midnight might not be an appropriate time to make his call. Quickly dismissing the thought, he watched the green flames burst into life.

"Se…Snape!"

"Oh of all the Gods cursed…. Black! What are you hollering about!"

"I think I've found it! Do you want to see?" he gushed excitedly.

"Do you even know what time it is?" Snape said sourly.

"Ah…." Sirius stammered, taken aback. "Not exactly….I just read this ritual and rushed straight…."

"I can see that! Lucky for you I have just returned from rounds! Bloody Weasley Twins, leading me all over the castle again!"

"Sorry. Do you want me to come back at a more appropriate time? I didn't even think to check before I called. It's just the ritual for Harry and I….."

"Give me a moment," Severus snapped. "If you come this way Albus will know. If I come through to Grimmauld he'll just assume there is another book I want to read."

Sirius sat up and quickly moved away from the floo. Unable to stand still while he waits his body in constant motion, twitching and fidgeting. Not stopping even when Severus stepped out of the fireplace.

"This way. It's in one of the books that can't be removed from the parlour."

Sirius practically dragged Severus into the other room, pushed him into the wing-backed chair and thrust the open tome into his lap. While Severus read, Sirius called Kreacher to bring hot chocolate and biscuits.

"Is this your equivalent of milk and cookies?" Severus looked up and raised a brow.

"Mooney always said that chocolate was a great assistance when dealing with the Dark Arts and well the cookies are just really nice. Kreacher's cooking has improved. I think he took some lessons on baking from Harry."

The usually gregarious man turned sombre, "I haven't called Addison yet. I wanted you to look over it first. It's not perfect, we'll need to adapt it slightly. Maybe this rune," he reached in front of Snape to point out the section. "Then I think the chant needs….see here, this is the line for evicting the spirit. I believe it will need to be changed if we mean to transfer it to something else."

"Hmmm," Snape mused as he tried to analyse every aspect of the ritual. "I believe you are right. The healer will need to see it, however I don't believe it would be sensible to contact him at this hour. Now if you will excuse me, some of us need to be up in a few hours to look after the bratlings."

"Oh," Sirius checked the time. They had spent several hours discussing the ritual and it was now two am. "Right, I'll wait a bit and get this to Addison. You try and get some sleep. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I just needed….."

The Professor rolled his eyes, "It's fine Black. I have found of late that I am growing….fond of the boy, there is more of his Mother in him than I initially gave him credit for." He moved swiftly to the fireplace and disappeared.

Sirius damped down a smile, that had been practically soppy for Snape. The moment didn't last long before with a sigh he returned to his chair by the fire, only to chuckle when he noticed that the biscuits were gone for the tray. Maybe Sev…Snape had a sweet tooth? He flicked open the book and continued on. Perhaps there would be something in there that would help them gather all the loose bits of soul together. Not yet tired, he briefly contemplated trying to call his Godson, but decided against it. Even though he would have been out at this time of morning during his school years, he knew Harry wasn't like that. Snape was right in some ways and wrong in others. For while Harry had some cheekiness from his Father, and a lot of attitude from his Mother, his personality was all his own. Tempered by experiences that neither of his parent's had had the misfortune of experiencing. He summoned a quill and piece of parchment and quickly wrote a letter to Healer Addison. Seraphina had returned to the United States for the time being but, perhaps the Healer would agree to come to Grimmauld.

The sudden drop in temperature that October had brought, woke Harry early that morning. His nose was pressed firmly into the junction between Percival's neck and chin. His right arm reaching around the older boy's shoulder with his hand resting against the tattoo. Percival in turn had his left arm wrapped around Harry's waist. In contrast Percival was woken by the nuzzling of the cold nose that was resting under his jaw.

"It's too early Harry, go back to sleep," he encouraged. "Or you could get up and exercise."

"Cold," the younger boy whined.

"Well, you know a heating charm."

Both boys sighed as warmth settled over them.

"It's going to be just as cold outside the curtains isn't it?" Harry said. "I wonder if Dobby would light the fire for us."

They heard the crackle of logs popping from the other side of the curtain.

"I think that answers your question. Don't you?"

"Thanks Dobby," there was a pleased feeling to the silence of the room. "I don't suppose the cold weather is an excuse to get out of doing my exercises is it?" Harry tried plaintively.

"No! Healer Addison was most determined. And if you want to be an Auror then you'll have to get used to it?"

"What if I don't want to be an Auror?"

"Then I suggest that you keep it up so that your body recovers from its previously poor condition, and because we know that Riddle is going to keep after you. The stronger your body is the quicker and longer you'll be able to channel your magic should it come down to a duel."

"Fine," the younger boy pouted. "But you're coming with."

"Of course. And just so you know, if you don't want to be an Auror that's ok."

Harry didn't respond, he just wiggled his nose further in to Percival's neck and inhaled deeply. Finally, the boys emerged from behind their curtains and hurriedly got dressed. They quickly made their way out of the common room and into the grounds that surrounded the castle. Unbeknownst to the pair, the mirror vibrated on Harry's bedside table for several moments before stilling.

An hour later, the coolness of the morning no longer bothered either of them as they raced each other up the staircases back to Gryffindor tower, their faces flushed with exertion. Ginny was sitting in the common room as they tumbled through the portrait hole.

"Where have you two been?" she asked curiously eyeing, their sweaty clothes.

"Exercising, Healer's orders," puffed Harry.

"I hope you're going to shower before class! You stink!" Ginny protested as they came closer to the couch she was sitting on.

Harry leaned over and tried to ruffle her hair, but she pushed him away, "Ew… go away!" she complained.

The boys continued back to the dorm laughing.

Several hours of lessons later, the Gryffindors made their way to potions. Neville had now been taught how to protect his cauldron and it appeared that his book list had also been deficient. A fact that appeared true for all of the Gryffindors. (Hermione just stated that they would have uncovered the same information if they had just spent a little more time in the library) so the group shared the ones from the Black library as well as the copies of the recommended books that Harry had purchased. A letter home had Augusta sending Neville, Frank and Alice's old books, which also had some helpful hints written in the margins and Harry wondered if he could find copies of his parent's books. Maybe Petunia or Striknott would know who had cleared out their old house.

The dour Professor watched the students enter, and after giving them a brief discourse on the day's task, a generic healing potion, set them to work. The Gryffindors always seemed to cluster at the back of the room, a fact which emphasised that Harry wasn't able to read the board at that distance, and Snape wondered if his eyes had ever been properly checked. He made a note to mention it to Black. There certainly hadn't been an ocular corrective potion on the list from the healer. Though Potter Senior's eyesight had never been able to be corrected either, or at least he had always worn glasses.

With sharp eyes and a stern demeanour, he kept watch over the class. It wasn't a particularly fiddly potion, though there were a large number of ingredients which added to the complexity, and there were several critical steps where errors could lead to catastrophic events, especially if additional ingredients were added to the mix. His Slytherins had been, for the most part, being well behaved in his classes this year, so it was only a matter of time before they acted out. Looking around the room he noticed the tell-tale shimmer that indicated a small ward had been placed over every Gryffindors cauldron. Well that was new. There was also of copy of the first-year prerequisite reading material on a couple of the tables. Curiosity peaked he decided he would have to ask Harry about it.

Finally, the end of the lesson approached. Severus sneered as he walked amongst the tables. It was surprising really; every single Gryffindor had produced a passable potion. Admittedly Mr Finnegan's was only just, but it was still a liquid and while not the lilac colour it was supposed to be, it was navy blue indicating that it wouldn't do any harm if it was consumed, even if it wouldn't help. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the Slytherins, he raised his brow as he passed Crabbe and Goyle's desk, glancing at the lethal black sludge that was residing in their cauldron's.

"I expect a sample of your potion to be labelled and placed on my desk, before you walk out of the room. Twelve inches on all of the ingredients which can add beta-carotene to a nutrient potion. Due at the start of your next lesson," he bit out in clipped tones.

Harry was one of the first to saunter up to his desk, depositing two phials before making his way to the door, where he paused to wait for his House-mates. Happy with how the group was progressing Snape turned his back for a moment, to clean the black board.

Crash!

Whipping round in a flare of robes he saw Draco Malfoy standing by the desk a glass phial in one hand, clearly trying to suppress his glee with a sticky mix of broken crystal and liquid on the floor in front of him.

"Sorry Professor, I…seem to have bumped the table," the blonde smirked.

"Mmmmm, leave your sample and go!" Snape ordered. Chuckling the Slytherins sauntered from the room, leaving their samples.

The Gryffindors who had stopped their exodus with Malfoy's stunt made their way back to their desks. Where the last Slytherin, a smirking Theodore Nott, had just finished vanishing anything left in their cauldrons before he sauntered out. Almost as one the Gryffindors, reached into their robes to remove a second phial and proceeded to Snape's desk in an orderly line to place them on the table without a word. As Severus watched on in astonishment.

"Well the lesson went too smoothly, if ya know what aye mean," Seamus Finnegan stated, as he passed the professor. "We knew they was up ta somethin' so this time we was prepared." With a grin he placed his phial down on the table.

"Mr Potter," Snape said. "Stay behind a moment."

Harry stepped to the side and allowed his classmates to pass.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you up."

"I notice that all of your Housemates had wards in place today Mr Potter, did you have something to do with this?"

"Well yeah, we've all started studying together and we realised that we all had the same booklist in first year. So, we shared my copies around, until we could get our hands on more copies and Perce and I taught them all the shield. I hope that's alright?"

"It is somewhat relieving to see you all taking an interest in your studies. From next year I will be checking the lists as they come out. I appreciate the steps you have taken. Oh, and Potter, please contact Black. He has been trying to speak with you. The man is driving me insane!"

"Sorry Professor, I forgot to check the mirror this morning. Do you know what it is about?"

"Yes!" Snape snapped with a vicious grin. "And if you call the Mutt you will know as well! Now out before you are late for class!"

"Thanks Professor!" Harry grinned as he ran from the room.

With a snort Snape said, "And two points per Gryffindor for being prepared." They need never know.

_Honourable Accountant, Striknott,_

_I had intended waiting before quilling this letter to you, but recent events mean that I must make this request sooner than desired. With the recent influx of Galleons_ _into my account, I understand there are some investment opportunities to be had, and I fully intend to authorise you to undertake these on my behalf when we have the opportunity to discuss them in length. _

_There are matters that need to be attended to in a more immediate fashion however. When I was in first year one of the broomsticks being used in our flying lessons was faulty leading to the injury of a classmate. It was an unfortunate incident however the injuries were relatively minor, and he was soon mended, as such the incident was forgotten. However, in the intervening time, the school has not undertaken to replace or repair of the faulty items. Hence today we have been devastated to learn that one of the newest to our school has been injured due to same faulty equipment. On this occasion the injuries will not be mended so quickly, and the student has been admitted to St Mungos for the foreseeable future._

_Given my largesse at this time, I feel that I should, for the betterment of my fellow students, donate a set of training brooms, to the school. And to ensure fairness a set of Team brooms for each of the Quidditch teams. The former should have all available safety charms applied, and the latter should be standard entry level brooms, that are suited to each position._

_In addition, please find attached a copy of an advertisement for specialist potions tables. I should like two dozen of these purchased and donated to Hogwarts care of Potions Master Severus Snape at your earliest convenience._

_If at all possible, I would like both these donations to be anonymous at this time. Is it possible for you to arrange this for me?_

_Sincerely_

_Harry Potter. _

With silencing charms cast on the tightly shut curtains Harry posted the letter Perce had helped him draft, to his accountant. Honestly he thought it sounded a bit pompous, but Percival said that Striknott would appreciate it. The situation was well beyond acceptable, some poor Hufflepuff first year, would not be able to return home, due to the lack of upkeep on equipment. He had been going to wait until the end of the school year, when he could have visited the bank and made arrangements directly, but he wouldn't tolerate any further delay.

"Sirius Black!" Harry called into the mirror as he sat on his bed.

"Harry! Shite," there was a disorientating blur as the mirror on the other end was upended. "Harry! Pup! I've been trying to get you all day. I was so worried when you didn't answer this morning."

"Sorry! Sirius. I forgot to check the mirror before Perce and I did our exercise. Snape told me to call you, but there was a horrible accident during the first year flying lessons today. So, I had to send an urgent letter to Striknott first."

"Is everything ok?"

"Not for Hyacinth Bucket! She might never walk again. It's because of the school brooms. Sirius they are, well I think they're as old as McGonagall. And they just aren't safe anymore. Hyacinth is a Muggleborn, so I can't see the purebloods doing anything about the issue, and when the Quidditch Captains, and Madame Hooch went to Dumbledore to complain he just said the school's budget just didn't allow for replacements."

"Let me guess, you're arranging for a donation," Sirius smiled into the mirror.

"Well, yeah. Not of money though, of brooms, but I don't want Dumbledore to know it has come from the selling of the Basilisk, so I want it to be anonymous."

"How about I go and talk to Striknott myself. He will be expecting me sometime soon, now that I have been cleared. I can arrange for them to be donated by the Black family." He paused looking at the protest building on Harry's face. "Even if the money comes from your account. If they appear to have been donated by me, Dumbledore will explain it away as either, something I have done because you requested it due to this tragic accident. Or me just being extravagant and trying to buy your love, especially if you were getting team brooms as well."

"Ok," Harry swallowed awkwardly. "Um…I was also going to get new desks for the potions classroom."

"Really?" Sirius smirked. "Trying to influence the teacher Harry?"

"Nah, just…."

"I understand. He isn't as bad as I thought he was either."

"Did it hurt you to admit that?" Harry snickered.

Sirius looked offended, before breaking into a genuine smile, "Only a little. Now I had actually been after you."

"Oh, yeah. What's the matter?"

"Nothing at all. I just think I might have found it. A ritual to remove the you-know…." he pointed at Harry's forehead.

"Really?"

"Yes. It will need to be modified a bit, but both Se…Snape and Addison think that it is doable."

"When?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Well, we will need a little while to figure out the changes and then to run some tests. I had hoped for Yule but there is a little note in the margin of the book that says that it will work best if it is performed on the Vernal Equinox."

"That's so long away, what if something happens before then?"

"For the moment you are safe. Keep practicing your Occlumency with Percival, and if you have any concerns let myself, Sera or Healer Addison know."

"I….we….sent some memories to the Healer….." Harry lowered the mirror.

"Harry, from this angle the only thing I can see is your boogers!" Sirius teased. "If you had a concern, I am glad you felt comfortable enough to contact him. Do you want to talk about it with me?"

"I just got so angry. Perce forgot to tell me that the Potter Grimoire might have some of my family history in it and I just snapped. I…I didn't like feeling that way Sirius."

"What did Addison say?"

"He said it was due to the link, and I was getting some bleed through of Riddle's emotions. To keep working on my Occlumency, but not to stress too much as it would be terribly hard to block it all out. At this stage he doesn't think that Riddle is aware of the link."

With a sigh, Sirius spilled reassuringly, "That is good then. It seems to fit with what I have found in the text. Now do you have any homework left to do?"

"I'm all done."

"Well get into bed Harry and let me tell you a story. There was this one time that your Father and I had decided that we would like some….."

Neville frowned at the letter in front of him it was most disconcerting. He had sent the first letter off in response to Harry's statement that they were Godbrothers, demanding that his Grandmother give him more information. She denied all knowledge. So, he had asked what had been included in his Parents wills. Not that they had been executed, but he assumed that they had at least been read so that their wishes could be carried out. He hadn't heard back, that had been two weeks ago. Neville had been on the verge of demanding that she meet him the Hogsmeade next weekend but she had finally replied.

It had not been what he had been expecting. The writing was oddly shaky in a fashion his Gran's had never been before and the parchment was wrinkled in places as if it had somehow become wet. August wrote saying that it had been two weeks after the attack which had injured his parents, she had been arguing with her brother Algernon that morning over where Neville was to go. In order to settle the argument, she had arranged to meet with their Accountant at Gringotts to confirm exactly what Frank and Alice had wanted. Then….nothing. She didn't recall, going to the bank, or speaking to Crysophil. Nothing. It had greatly disturbed her, so she made an appointment. What she learned at the bank turned her world on its head. They told her that she had indeed seen the Accountant and read the will, which she had just done again, he had said goodbye and she had departed. They had expected to be contacted to set up payments for a stipend to his guardian, however the next time she was in the bank she seemed to have no memory of the conversation at all.

Augusta had confronted her brother, who admitted that he had known that she was going to the bank, but on her returned she seemed mildly confused so he had taken advantage of her lapse to ensure things went the way he had planned, and she had been left thinking that it was what Frank and Alice had wanted. She now knew it was not the case. In the event of his parents becoming compromised, Neville was supposed to have been taken in by his Godmother Lily Evan. Should she not have been available then he was to go to his Godfather, Kingsley Shacklebolt who had been a close friend of Frank's. Then herself. Algernon was not supposed to be residing in Longbottom Manor, nor receiving a stipend from the estate. She had evicted him from the house and recalled all monies paid. She apologised over and over again and promised to do better. It seemed that re-reading the will again had managed to break through at least some of the memory charms and compulsions that had been placed on her over the years as she now remembered all the times that her Brother had hurt her precious Grandson. It would never happen again!

"You alright Nev?" Harry asked as he, Percival and Ron joined the blonde at the Gryffindor table. The blonde passed the letter he had been reading to Harry, unable to speak. "Wow! Are you ok? It might be a bit much to process now, but…..when you're ready. I'm here to listen Nev," Harry offered.

On the other side of the table, Ron was staring at an owl he knew making its slow way towards him.

"Isn't that Hermes?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. What do you think Percy wants?" Ron asked as he took the scroll from the owl, offered it a piece of bacon, which it quickly nabbed before flying off.

"Don't know mate, he's your brother," Harry shrugged.

_Dear Ron,_

_I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister for Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect._

_I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the 'Fred and George' route, rather than follow in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings when you have stopped flaunting authority and decided to shoulder some real responsibility._

_But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron I want to give you some advice. I hope you have opened this away from prying eyes._

_I know you are still friends with Harry Potter, and please don't take this the wrong way but that association may lead you into dangerous territory. I know Harry has always been Dumbledore's favourite so he will be somewhat protected from shifts in power, but you will not have that same protection and I worry for you. Dumbledore may not be in charge of Hogwarts for that much longer and the people who count have a very different view of things._

_I can say no more here, but if you look at today's Daily Prophet you will see which way the wind is blowing. This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted at Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty Ron, should not be to him._

_Please think on what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Dumbledore, and congratulations again on becoming prefect._

_Your Brother _

_Percy._

Ron's initial response was one of anger, but if there was one thing that Percival being around had taught him, it was to stop and think. What was it that Percy was really trying to say? It sounded like Percy thought that he was in danger, possibly due to his association with Harry. He didn't come out and say it, but it sounded as if he thought that Ron would be safer if he cut his ties to Harry. Surely his older brother would know that he would never do that! He read the letter again. The letter seemed to be written as if someone other than Ron himself would read it. But who would bother to intercept student's mail? The thought was ludicrous, the red-haired boy glanced up at the teachers table, where the beady eyes of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher were watching him closely. Right ok, well that explained the who. If Percy thought that someone was reading Ron's mail, what was he actually trying to say? He read it one more time, before the knut dropped. It was a warning! Something bad was coming and Ron should watch out, his association with Harry had placed him firmly in danger. He could use his prefect status as protection by buttering up the enemy if he chose, but regardless he should be very, very careful. Ron slipped his letter under the table to Percival. Percival would understand what Percy was trying to say and would pass the message on to Harry.

Hedwig hooted as she dropped the Daily Prophet into Harry's bowl of porridge, causing the oats to splash over the sides of the bowl. She was a little upset, her wizard had not been paying her the amount of attention she was due. He hadn't been out just to fly with her once as yet, and he spent all that time in the mornings running around like some land mammal, instead of petting and talking to her!

"Oh, I'm sorry Hedwig!" Harry murmured as he wiped porridge off the newspaper. "We haven't had much time recently, have we?"

He tore up a piece of bacon and hand fed her, she supposed that it was an adequate peace offering, but she nipped his fingers sharply just to be sure that he knew.

"Yeah, I know I'm in trouble. What if I give you a letter to take to Dudley? Hmm, will that make it better." He took the letter out of his pocket and she grabbed it in a claw, taking off she made sure to bat him around the head, just the once with her wing.

Percival had unrolled the paper and spread it out on the table, they didn't have to search through it to find out what Percy had been eluding to, for there on the front cover was a large photograph of Delores Umbridge, smiling widely and blinking slowly at them from beneath the headline;

_Ministry Seeks Educational Reform_

_Delores Umbridge Appointed_

_First Ever High Inquisitor_

_In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_ "__The Minister has been growing uneasy about the goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns raised by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of."_

"It goes on to quote Lucius Malfoy, questioning whether the school is safe given the recent injury during flying lessons, and various people praising the Ministries efforts in ensuring fair and objective evaluations for all of the staff," Percival summarised.

"Well at least it tells us how we ended up with Professor Umbridge. Did you see that…. the Ministry just made up a decree that allowed them to nominate a teacher,"

"Yes," cut in Dean, "but only if the Headmaster couldn't find someone."

"Well! Now she has the power to inspect the other teachers!" Hermione was breathing fast and her eyes were very bright. "I can't believe this. It's outrageous!"

"Yeah, it is, but that's because we know that Umbridge is as useful as a wet wig," Harry said calmly. "However, on the surface it seems to make sense. Hogwarts is after all a fully Ministry funded school. Apart from uniforms and books the the government takes care of the rest of the costs. There is even a fund to help finance those kids who come from families that can't afford all the additional stuff. So from one point of view perhaps the Ministry should be looking into things."

Hermione spluttered.

"We know she is Fudge's stooge Hermione," he said in an under tone, flicking his eyes towards the group of Hufflepuffs that had walked by their table. "We also know that she won't be fair."

"It might be amusing though," Ron grinned widely.

"What?"

"Well can you imagine McGonagall or better yet Snape being inspected. Umbridge won't know what hit her."

Still it wasn't the best start to Halloween.

A/N: I don't usually write these on fan fiction (I do on my A03 account, we have a good old chat over there, if anyone wants to come join in) but I felt that one comment needed to be addressed. This is fan fiction, I am only playing in JK Rowlings playground, that means I literally make s*&t up, it's kind of the point. If I want Harry to be ride a pink unicorn as he sings the National Anthem I can, perhaps he is a Time Lord (I wish I knew more about Dr Who, 'cause I want to read that now!), you see the imagination has no limit. Also to the review who commented about the orientation of my characters, I'm not sure who you are talking about as 1) JK Rowling said in April 2019 that Harry Potter was bisexual and 2) She never said anything about Sirius at all (and in fact, if you re-read, you'll find neither have I). You don't have to like my story, don't leave unhelpful negative comments. Just leave and don't let the door hit you on the a! e on the way out.


	14. Chapter 14

Peeling her eyelids open, Hermione felt like she had hardly slept at all. Finally, after weeks on the outer, it seemed that Harry and Ron were coming back round to her way of thinking after all. The reward for her apparent success had been a new book. It was so much better than that stupid text book that had been her consolation prize last time. Really a used copy of the sixth-year potions text, what had Dumbledore been thinking. Thank goodness for Umbridge and the Ministry it might have been the only thing they were good for. Now that he was thinking more Harry could see how the Ministry was explaining away the appointment of Umbridge as the High Inquisitor, but the part of him that was instinctively ingrained in fairness would still hate it. Despite what he had said that first day, it had only taken a week to emerge. With a sigh she reached over to caress the cover of the book that was responsible for her tiredness, _To Curse a Man_, once she had opened it she hadn't been able to put it down. Sure, some of the curse were particularly gruesome, but still, it was important that at least one person knew what they were facing.

Slowly Hermione emerged from her covers and looked around the empty dormitory. It was odd that she wouldn't have been disturbed by the others, making their way to breakfast! Usually they were so loud, perhaps they had noticed how tired she had been and decided to allow her to sleep in, just this once. That wasn't likely, as a group they weren't the most empathetic of girls. Dark circles greater her as she looked in the mirror standing out starkly against her paler than usual complexion. They would tell anyone who saw her that she had been up late last night, as a prefect that just wouldn't do! She wished that she had some make up to hide them. Maybe there was a charm that would cover them? Then she noticed that sitting innocently on the ledge under the mirror that Lavender normally used was a tiny bottle. Hermione peered at the label.

_Perfect Potions- a foundation to match the skin of the discerning witch. Black, tan, pale, or blue blends to any skin tone. Bags and blemishes banished in the blink of an eye. Puts pimples in the past permanently. A witch's around skin care solution._

Surely Lavender wouldn't mind. Hermione opened the bottle and dabbed a little under her eyes, just to see….There it was perfect! She poured a little more onto her fingers and spread it over her face until her slightly grey skin, with the hound-dog bags under the eyes, was completely concealed. Now no-one need ever know she had spent the whole night reading. With a grin, she packed the book into her bags and ran down to breakfast.

"Hermione," a sweet second year called as Hermione arrived at the table.

"Yes Iris?" Really what could the kid want now? Wasn't the help she had given her in magical theory last night enough? Hermione threw her bag onto the floor under the table and fell onto the bench beside Ron.

"What!" Hermione said to the girl, ignoring the tiny child's flinch at her harsh tone.

"Um, well, you're on the list to help with potions and I don't really understand why …"

"Not now Iris, I'm trying to eat. I'll talk to you later," Hermione cut off whatever Iris was about to say.

"Ok," the little girl crept away.

"Couldn't you have been nicer?" Ron chided. "She was just asking for help."

"She won't leave me alone!" Hermione complained. "Ever since I put my name on that damned list, they all think it's ok to come and talk to me whenever they want! Don't they know I have my own work to get done too!"

"Well you did nominate a rather open-ended availability Hermione," Harry pointed out.

"And you can always take your name off the list or decrease your hours, at any point if you feel mentoring is taking up too much of your time. Someone else will help them out, there was plenty of coverage before you put your name on the list." Ron added, internally smiling at her scandalised expression.

"As if! You were barely managing without me!" she sipped her tea.

"Excuse me Hermione?" another height disadvantaged student approached. "Um I was thinking about the subjects for next year. I wanted some advice. Could you explain the difference…"

"Not now! Peta," Hermione snapped, placing her cup on the table with a firm clink.

"My name is Veronica!" the girl said, before turning away. "Wish I had gone to Ravenclaw!"

Harry gently caught her hand, before she moved to far, "Veronica, we would hate to lose you to Ravenclaw. Are you free after lunch?" There was a pause before she dipped her chin. "I have a spare then and if you meet me in the library, my friends and I can talk you through each of the subjects. Before then have a bit of a think about what you might like to do for a job, once you finish at school. Ok?"

He waited for her hesitant nod of agreement, before releasing her hand.

Meanwhile Hermione had stood shoving a piece of toast in her mouth and muttering that if she wanted any peace to do some reading, she wouldn't get it in the Great Hall.

"Do you think there is actually something wrong with her?" Harry asked concernedly.

"Reading before class, seems like normal Hermione behaviour to me, mate," Ron chuckled.

"Not that, Ron. You saw the way she talked to those two second years. She wouldn't normally be that mean. Would she?"

"It could be anything Harry. She has been a bit short tempered lately. Maybe it's because we haven't been hanging out with her as much. Dad's said that teenage girls can be a bit extra emotional at times…" Ron flushed red. "To be honest I didn't want to ask him anything about it. We'd better go, or else we aren't going to make it to history with enough time for Percival to set up the silencing wards," Ron grinned and tucked his feet back. "Ow! Ah who left a book under the ruddy bench… Um. Percival?" the sudden way his demeanour changed caught everyone's attention.

"What is it Ron?" Percival asked.

"It's a book but it feels…wrong….really, really wrong."

Percival stepped around Harry and knelt down to peer under the table. A book he was sure had seen somewhere before was lying on the floor. Removing his handkerchief from his pocket, he enlarged it and used it to wrap around the book to protect himself. As he stood, the boys around him all took a step back.

He looked at Harry, "We need to talk to Sirius."

"Now or will it wait?" Harry asked as he picked up Percival's bag as well as his own, knowing that a detour to the dormitory would make them late. Fortunately, it was Professor Binns so there was a good chance he wouldn't even notice.

"As long as we keep this safe, later is fine," Percival assured him. "Though I don't like the idea of it being around the school."

"Would it be safe for House Elves to handle?"

Percival frowned but nodded.

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Master Harry Potter Sir," the floppy eared being popped into existence.

"Could you take this and put it…" Harry stopped, unsure where the safest place would be.

"Put it back on the bookshelves in Sirius' library," Percival finished for him.

"Yes, Master Graves Sir," Dobby gingerly took the book, still wrapped in its 'kerchief and popped away.

Neville was staring at the space where Dobby had just been, "Let me get this straight Harry. After being the …was it secretary or treasurer…. whichever for SPEW, you've got yourself a House Elf. And your Godfather, the previously imprisoned but totally innocent Sirius Black owns that book?"

"Kind of. Dobby chose to bond with me, and because I…sort of got him freed, I couldn't really turn him down. Especially not after he explained the consequences of House Elf freedom. And while Sirius did not commit the crimes, he was imprisoned for I don't think anyone could describe him as innocent." Harry chuckled. "The Black Library has a stack of horrible books like that in it. Sirius banned me from going into the shelves where they are kept. Do you think she pinched it over the summer? I haven't seen it before so it can't have been in the family only section."

"I am almost certain that it is from the Library Harry. We will have to check if Sirius gave her permission to remove it. But first we had better get to class."

After lunch the boys had disappeared to the library and unusually Hermione had remained behind in the Great Hall, too preoccupied to feel even a twinge of guilt at not helping out Vivienne, Vanessa….whatever! Surely, they couldn't stuff up advice on third year electives too badly. There were greater worries on her mind. He had given her strict instructions not to leave it lying around, and now she couldn't find it! She knew it had been in her bag that morning, but when she had gone to take it out so she could read it during her break, it was gone. At first, she had thought that it had merely fallen out of her bag and so she had retraced her steps. Oh, it wouldn't do for anyone else to find it! This was the last place she could think of, she crawled under the table searching for it. With a groan she realised it was all for naught it wasn't there. Maybe it had fallen out in the dormitory? What if one of those bimbos had found it? Ergh, that just wouldn't do. The Headmaster still hadn't forgiven her for losing the other books, what would he do this time? She slowly made her way to class, feeling sick to her stomach.

"Sirius!" Harry called into the mirror, the minute the boys had made it back to the dormitory after tea.

"Pup! I wasn't expecting to hear from you. What is the matter?"

"We found something today. Hermione had a book that we believe may have belonged in the Library at Grimmauld. We asked Dobby to return it. Was it yours? Did you give it to her?"

"Ah, so that's what happened. I heard Dobby rustling around in there. When I spoke to him, he said that you had asked him to put the book there. Then he popped out saying he was continuing the search for the Potter Grimoire. There is no way I would have let anyone borrow that book Harry. Let alone a kid. It isn't quite a one-way ticket to Azkaban, but owning it is highly frowned upon, usually copies are kept in restricted sections of training libraries, like the Aurors. I do not care how smart someone is, no-one should be reading it who is not at least at a journeyman level curse breaker."

"What book was it?" Harry asked curiously.

"It was a first edition copy of _To Curse a Man_," Sirius said.

"There were some order members here when Dobby came by, so I will just check that I don't have two copies, before we go throwing accusations around."

He stood and the background changed as he made his way through the house. Then the mirror was placed on a table for a moment, before Sirius' face reappeared.

"Only one copy, so the question is how did she get it? It is one of the books that I had Bill check, and it was spelled so that it could only be removed by someone who was of age, and who knew the counter spell to the curse that was placed on the cover."

"Has Dumbledore been around recently?"

"We've only had the one proper meeting since you guys have returned to school, it was just last week. Of those at the meeting only Albus and Bill would have been able to remove the enchantments and Bill floo'ed straight in and out of the kitchen."

"Dumbledore must have got it then. Hermione had a meeting with the Headmaster, last week. After that she apologised and then seemed to start listening to us a bit. She had a meeting yesterday afternoon as well that I know wasn't a prefects meeting, because Ron wasn't needed. I had thought she was doing some mentoring, but maybe it was another meeting with the Headmaster."

"Well at least we got that book away from her, right? This was one of the texts that you didn't want me looking at, right?"

"Yeah Pup. It was fortunate that Ron found it. I'm very glad you listened to Percival and had Dobby remove it. I hate to think what could have happened if one of the younger kids had even touched it. This copy has a compulsion on it, to make you read it. Just keep an eye on Hermione, I don't know how long it would take to clear."

"Would casting _finite_ help?" Percival asked.

Sirius looked thoughtful, "I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Blacks tend to be rather good at anything that effects how you think. I expect the counter is not that simple, however Madame Pomphrey is pretty good at breaking all sorts of strange enchantments. Are you ok now?"

"We just wanted to check if it was your book, Sirius. And to let you know what was going on."

"Sirius," Percival started hesitantly. "I found something worrying the other day."

Sirius looked curiously at the boy.

"Someone had tagged my core with a compulsion. It was camouflaged enough to be difficult to find but was not quite subtle enough to go unnoticed. Perhaps…."

"I'll be sure to check my core, not to worry. I will also ward the library against the removal of any books. The new catalogue system is brilliant, because as soon as a book is removed from the shelves it notes down, who removed it and how long it was before it was returned. I suspect this book was removed before the cataloguing was complete."

"Do you….do you think we should confront her about it Sirius?" Harry asked the question that was bothering him the most.

"That's hard to answer Harry. If you do, you could perhaps phrase it in terms of your concern rather than making it an outright accusation."

His Godson nodded thoughtfully.

"If that's all gentlemen, I had best go and sort out that new ward," he gave a handsome grin, his face while still lean was no longer as gaunt as it had been when they had returned to school. "Night Pup."

"Night Sirius," The mirror returned to showing Harry's reflection.

"How do we talk to her?" Harry asked softly.

"We start by finding her. Come on let's take our books down to the common room. Hopefully she will be there."

They joined Ron and Neville, who were seated on opposite sides of a table, engaged in a game of chess. Neville was losing, though not as spectacularly as Harry usually did.

"What homework have you got left? I've only got the potions essay," Harry said, rather pleased with himself.

"Herbology essay," Neville said with a grin, "I always save the best for last."

"Wish I had done that. I've still got History," grumbled Ron. "I couldn't face it, it's soooooo boring! How does he even mark them anyway?"

"I have completed all of mine. Harry, Nev, I can check over your Runes study sheets, while you are working on your assignments if you like," Percival offered. They both agreed happily.

Soon the group was working away, the ebb and flow of the common room relegated to background noise. An hour later a disgruntled Hermione stomped down the stairs.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I've lost a book!" she complained. "A very precious book, that I had on loan."

Not wanting to turn away what seemed to be the perfect opportunity, Harry asked cautiously, "That's not like you, you're usually so careful. It wasn't a book on hexes was it?"

"Yes! Yes it was. Have you seen it? Oh, please tell me you've got it! I'll be in so much trouble, if I've lost it, and I just have to read it just one more time before I return it."

"Ah, yeah. I couldn't say that it was the book you are missing for sure, but we found a book left behind in the Great Hall this morning."

"Where is it! It must be it," she squealed happily. "Quick go and get it for me!"

"Hermione. There was something very wrong with that book. We're worried about you," Ron said quietly.

"It felt un-natural, greasy, " Harry agreed, with a frown.

"Pftt," she scoffed, dismissing their concerns. "You just can't handle it. It's ok I know that I can. Quick go and get it."

"Hermione," Harry said patiently. "It really felt horrible. We couldn't let you or anyone else be hurt by it so we arranged for it to be returned to the library it was taken from."

"What!" her mouth fell open in dismay. "No. No! You don't understand I _have _to have it back. Harry, I _need_ that book. It has spells in that I have to _know_. And I have to give it back to…. "Hermione seemed to freeze just for a second before continuing. "Well anyway I have to return it to the person who lent it to me. You need to get it back! Get it for me. Now!"

"I understand you want the book, Hermione, but this isn't right. You're acting weird and we're worried about you. Besides, the book had been taken without the owner's permission."

"No, it hadn't, I got it from…" she quickly shut her mouth. "I got it from the owner!"

"No, you didn't, we spoke to him…."

"I don't see what your problem is anyway. It's not your book, why should you care? You just don't want me learning anything special. I can tell, you want me to be just as dumb as you, but I'm not. I'm the brightest witch of my age and I…."

There was a tug on her sleeve, the little second year, Iris, from earlier had appeared by her elbow, "Miss Hermione…"

"Go away, you stupid little worm! I don't have time for you. Find someone else to bother with your minuscule problems. Can't you see, I have more important things to worry about." Hermione was standing over the girl waving her arms about agitatedly.

Iris shrank back in fright, Neville reached up and gently pulled her out of harm's way. He led her over towards the chair Ginny was sitting on.

"It was Iris wasn't it?" he asked kindly.

"Y..yes," she stuttered, glancing nervously back at the bush-haired prefect, who was still clearly ranting, despite the fact someone had now thrown up a silencing ward.

"Were you still looking for help with potions?"

"Uh-huh, but…" she looked over at Hermione again.

"Yes, something is going on with Hermione at the moment and I expect they will be removing her name from the mentoring list. Now to be completely honest with you, I'm pants at potions. As is Ron, he's the fifth-year boys' prefect, however, this is Ginny, she is in fourth year. Ginny, this is Iris. I've heard that Ginny is pretty good at potions," he said in a mock whisper. "Ginny do you think you could lend Iris a hand, she has a couple of questions about potions."

"Sure," Ginny slid off the chair and onto the floor, so she could use a nearby coffee table as a desk and patted the floor beside her. "Come and have a sit Iris." Her welcoming smile drew a small smile from the shy second-year, who hesitantly sat down beside her and pulled out a text book.

Neville made sure Iris was settled before he made his way back over to enter the bubble where Hermione was still arguing.

"You had no right, to take that book away from me!"

"For the last time Hermione, we didn't take it away. We didn't steal it! Whoever gave it to you stole it. We merely found it under the table in the Great Hall and returned it to its rightful owner," Harry snapped. "Leaving such a filthy book lying around where any first year could have found it was completely irresponsible." His eyes narrowed and his face contorted in anger. Percival quickly grabbed Harry's hand and lifted it to his tattoo.

"What are you doing to him!" Hermione screeched, noticing the movement. "You're always doing that to him, always touching him! You let him go!"

She drew her wand and pointed it at the pair ready to blast them apart. Percival who had his both his hands on Harry, had no chance to draw his wand so swivelled quickly, turning his back to the girl and placing himself between the witch and his friend, bracing against the spell.

"Confr…"

"Protego!"

"….ingo!"

Surprisingly it was Neville who had the fastest draw. His shield winked into existence, reflecting the spell, off at an odd angle. It hit a couch which exploded, fortunately it had just been vacated. The seventh-year prefect was on the group in an instant.

"What is going on here! Hermione Granger, you are a prefect! Why would you believe it was ok to cast a blasting curse in the common room? I can guarantee that Professor McGonagall is already on her way and she will not be pleased!"

The portrait swung out of the way admitting their tartan clad Head of House.

"Eliza, please explain what has happened here tonight," she asked the prefect.

"Professor, this evening most of the fifth-year boys was studying until Prefect Granger came down out of the dorm and joined them. Apparently, there must have been some altercation but as they set up a silencing ward and were not disturbing the rest of the room. I thought that they should sort it out amongst themselves. About five minutes ago, it seems that it went a step too far as I saw Miss Granger cast a blasting curse at Mr Graves who was protecting Mr Potter. Mr Longbottom cast a shield, which did protect Mr Graves but had the unfortunate side effect of ricocheting the spell off, onto the couch. Very fortunately no one was injured." She nodded at the smoking wreckage of wood, stuffing and material.

"Sorry Professor, I didn't think about where it would reflect the spell and I don't know any shields that absorb spells as yet," Neville mumbled.

Professor McGonagall just stared at the fidgeting boy. "While, I don't appreciate a destroyed couch, Mr Longbottom. It is preferable to having to explain to the ex-President of the United States how her Godson came to be attacked while at our school. Therefore, I thank you for your quick thinking, five points to Gryffindor."

She waved her wand and a door appeared on the right-hand side of the common room. "In!" she ordered, they filed into the room ahead of their Professor.

"You will tell me what this argument is about immediately! What could possibly have caused you to turn wands on each other?"

"Well Professor, after breakfast this morning," Ron began, scuffing his feet on the stone floor. "I was standing up and my foot hit something under the table. Whatever it was had a bad feel to it. So, I asked Percival to have a look, because I know that he has had a bit more education on those sorts of things."

"It was a book, Professor," Percival continued the story. "But it felt all oily and ….well wrong. We all thought so." The three other boys nodded in agreement. "Aunt Sera had mentioned artefacts that feel like that shouldn't be touched by bare hands, so I wrapped it in a handkerchief and picked it up. Planning to pass it on to a teacher immediately. Once it was in the light I realised that I had seen that book in the …..Library at…..were we spent the summer."

"At Harry's Godfather's residence?" McGonagall correctly assumed.

"Yes," Harry took over. "So, I asked Dobby if he would mind taking it and putting it away, as it is obviously much more protected there and less likely to harm anyone. We didn't want some first year finding it!"

"How did Dobby find your Godfather's house Harry?" McGonagall asked in concern. "I need to know if this is a fault with the charm or…"

"No, he can only go there because I know where it is, and he visited me during the summer."

"But that would mean that he is bonded…."

"Harry James Potter! You enslaved a House Elf! How could you? After all the work we did on S.P.E.W!" Hermione reprimanded him.

"The work you did Hermione, for an organisation that you railroaded me and Ron into joining, without having the common decency to even ask if we wanted to be a part of. Hermione, did you ever bother to talk to any of the House Elves about it? And I know that you didn't, because Dobby and I had a long discussion about the implications of his freedom. Un-bound House Elves suffer from depression. Like Winky with her butterbeer addiction. They never get better, they just fade away. The only reason that Dobby didn't is because he had decided that he wanted to bond with me and was patiently waiting until I figured it out. He asked me and after he explained it I wasn't about to turn him down."

"No! You're wrong. Harry, he's brainwashed. You have to see that they will all be better when they are free! They just have to be made to try it first."

"Hermione, I'm not talking to you about this anymore. You never listen to what I say. Despite what you think I am not actually dumb."

Their professor stepped in before the argument could devolve any further. "To summarise this evenings disagreement. You gentlemen, found a book on some form of Dark Arts under the breakfast table and arranged for it to be removed from the school and returned to its proper place."

There was a chorus of 'Yes Professor'.

"Then what led to the smoking couch?"

"They didn't return it! Professor they stole it! It was loaned to me and I have to return it to the person I borrowed it from. They didn't ask, they just took it," Hermione protested. "And they need to give it back to me, because it is mine! My own."

This statement earned her a stern glare from the Professor, who raised her wand.

"Custos Expecto Loquentes. Sirius Black can you provide evidence that the book returned to you today belongs in your library?" Her sliver cat ran from the room.

A few minutes later a large silver grim entered the room, "I can confirm. The book has a dedication on the inside of the front cover, that reads: To My Dearest Cassiopeia, may you find this educational. Love Callidora." Padfoot briefly nuzzled Harry before fading away.

"No…no…it didn't say that it…it said…." It was clear that Hermione was lying.

"Miss Granger," the Professor said softly but firmly. "I'm going to take you to Madame Pomphrey. Such books often have curses on them, and I'm concerned you have been affected."

"I feel fine Professor really,' Hermione protested. "I just really need…"

"Gentlemen, you may go. I will take care of Hermione."

"Argh," Harry groaned as he flopped onto his bed. "That didn't go to plan!"

"It was lucky no one was sitting on that couch," Neville said shakily.

"Yeah. It could have been worse," Ron shrugged. "And at least McGonagall knows now, so she can keep an eye on Hermione as well. As can Madame Pomphrey."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Seamus and Dean had been in detention for blowing up the charm's classroom, and so had missed most of the argument, only returning to the common room just in time to see Hermione blow up the couch.

"So, what's eatin' 'ermione?" Seamus asked.

"Oh, it was just a disagreement over a book," Ron said not wanting to go through it all again.

Seamus snorted, and began getting ready for bed. Neville was already lying on his bed practicing his Occlumency.

The time traveller made his way over to Harry's bed, "Lay down. Close your eyes and find your core."

Despite the argument, it was coming easier to Harry now and only took him a minute.

"Do you see all the tendrils extending from your core? Those are the vessels that transport magic around your body. If you follow them as they extend away from your core you can see they connect to every part of your body from the top of your head to your toes. See if you can sense your magic moving in them. I have always thought it looked like little bubbles of light." He waited for Harry to nod. "Now sometimes, very clever and subtle wizards can slip a little tap into your core, either to influence your magic, or to syphon some of it away. These spurs won't feel like your magic. They might be dull or flat, or just not the same colour or feel. Check every vessel. I want you to let me know if there are any that feel….different to you."

Studiously, Harry checked them all, then with a relieved sigh, shook his head.

"Good," Percival said, he was relieved. Harry could feel the other boy's warmth moving away as he made his way to his own bed. Harry turned his gaze internally again and continued strengthening the walls around the black pit that he knew was the horcrux.

Hermione Granger was not a happy witch. She fumed as she lay on the bed in the hospital wing. Apparently, it had been true, a lucky guess on Harry's behalf she was sure, that the book had influenced her. A fact that she knew now, as Madame Pomphrey had removed the compulsion and she no longer had the all-consuming need to read it, nor the possessiveness she had felt previously. All that meant was that she would have to be more careful next time. That she could do. Perhaps there were detection spells that could be used to ensure that the books she was reading were not cursed or even better there must be spells to remove the curses so she could read the books anyway. Yes, she was sure there would be something, after all curse breakers had to read similar books, so they would be able to remove the protections on tomes they found in pyramids and such. She would look them up tomorrow. There was bound to be some in the restricted section of the library. Surely, she could convince Professor Flitwick, or Sinistra to write her a pass. If not, Hermione was sure that Bill Weasley would answer her questions, he had always seemed like a sensible wizard.

The realisation that the book had been cursed didn't do anything to ease the anger, no fury, that Hermione felt towards Percival Graves. During the discussion with Professor McGonagall, it had come out that he was the one who had identified the book. Pftt clearly, he was wrong, and just as clearly it had been Percival who had convinced Harry to get rid of the book. Ron had of course just followed Harry, like he always did. Percival had to be deceiving Harry in some way. She still thought potions were the most likely culprit, certainly they would be the easiest to administer. It looked like her hand had been forced, she had no choice. She would just have to slip Harry a cleansing potion. In fact, Hermione glanced around the darkened room. Madame Pomphrey had gone to bed half an hour ago, now might be the perfect time to get one.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Hermione stood up. Making sure not to make a sound she crept over to the Potions store and slowly opening the door, tentatively waiting for any creak. To her great relief the door moved smoothly. A quick glance showed that the bottles were all clearly labelled, it made identifying the one she wanted so easy. Yes, with a snort at the irony she thought, it looked like 'the Gods' were blessing her actions. She reached in and took a vial from the back row. With a smile she made her way back to her bed, tucking the contraband into the side pocket of the bag she had bought up that held her clothes for the morning.

Surprisingly it did not take all that much to slip the potion into Harry's morning tea. Hermione smirked as Percival created the required distraction by pointing out an article in Daily Prophet that talked about the donations that Lord Black was going to make to Hogwarts. Ignoring the excited noises, the Quidditch team were making she merely tipped the contents of the phial into Harry's cup as she reached around behind the newspaper. The teapot that she was ostensibly grabbing, also hid any slight movement that would have given her away, from the other side of the table. Pouring herself a cup of tea, she smiled and waited, quickly slipping the empty phial back into her pocket. The text she had read said it would only take five minutes to start to work. And the affects should last about half an hour, which was fortunate as both she and Harry had a free period. After that she would be able to get him alone, Percival had volunteered to help a group of third years with Arithmancy. Then…Harry would have his eyes opened and would know what sort of person Percival was. Then… Harry would start looking to her for guidance again as he was supposed to. And then it would finally all be better, things would return to how they ought to be. Hermione just knew that if she could get Harry back on side, Ron would surely follow. With the pair of them listening to her again, the Headmaster, wouldn't be so cross with her. The last time she had failed him he had threatened her with punishment, and she was not at all keen to find out what it would be.

"You alright mate?" Dean asked from the other side of the table. It was beginning. Harry's face was and odd mix of green and red that could only be described as puce.

"Don't feel so well!" he rasped out, sweat beading on his brow.

Percival had him up and moving, without further thought, an arm wrapped firmly round his waist for support. "I'll take him to the hospital wing. Ron grab our bags, would you? You'll get there first, so drop our bags and then if you don't mind can you take notes in class if we don't make it?"

With an odd staggering gait, they left. Hermione's felt her lips twist upwards as she sipped her tea but, she didn't think anyone had noticed. Brown eyes watched, the red-head follow them out. Perhaps she could do a little…investigation while the boys were preoccupied. Dean and Seamus had made plans to go for flying and Neville had been asked for some Herbology advice by a sixth year. As if a blimp like Neville could tell them anything useful, they would have been better off talking to her but, she had plans. Yes, they were all distracted so it would work out nicely and as a by-product she would have evidence to show Harry just how much he had been taken in by Percival.

The two boys had had to stop at every bathroom on the way to the infirmary, but they eventually made it, with Percival having to carry Harry up the last set of stairs.

"What is the….Oh, Mr Potter!" Madame Pomphrey exclaimed as she took in his now puffy face. "What has happened."

Harry was wheezing and unable to talk, so Percival said, "It happened suddenly during breakfast, he had a sip of tea and then became unwell. I noticed his lips starting to swell so I brought him here as quick as I could, though he has been sick and um…..well you know. It took us a while to get here, because we had to stop so often. Harry collapsed on the third floor and I had to carry him the rest of the way."

"Oh dear, are there any messes I need to send the House Elves to clean up."

"No Ma'am."

"Well," she said as she waved her wand over a groaning Harry. "With vomiting and diarrhoea, if I didn't know better, I would have said that he had taken a cleansing potion. However, that doesn't usually cause the swollen lips, puffy face, and breathing difficulties."

"Could he be allergic…."

"Oh, my yes. Let me check. An enormously thick chart flew from the back room into her hand. Yes, I remember now. Lily sent me a letter, Harry had come into contact with some Elderberries when he was just six months old and puffed up like a puff skein. She wanted to know what she could give him for colds and flu as Elderberry is the component that acts as the expectorant in most potions. Unfortunately, I am out of the antidote."

The grey-haired matron ran to the only fireplace in the room, "Professor Snape!"

"Yes, Madame Pomphrey?" his deep voice could be heard over the gently crackling fire.

"I have a student having an allergic reaction, I need the patio…."

"Madame! I am in the middle of class! Can they not simply wash the area?"

"The allergen has been ingested Professor Snape. You know I wouldn't disturb you for anything less than an emergency!" she tutted at him.

With a sigh he replied, "I'll be through with the potion in a moment."

Two minutes later, the dour man emerged from the flames.

Looking at the boy recumbent on the bed, he said, "Of course it would be Potter. Can I assume that you have let his Godfather know?"

"Oh!" Madame Pomphrey started, nearly dropping the vial of potion she had taken from the man. "No, I will advise the Headmaster. He is the boy's Guardian."

Placing a hand gently on Harry's chin, she opened his mouth and tipped the potion in, before massaging his throat, to make the now unconscious boy swallow.

Turning from the bed she was confronted with Severus Snape, back to turned to her, head in the medicine cabinet. "You are missing one purging potion," he stated after a moment.

"What?"

"There is a potion missing from the back, here," he moved aside so that she could see the space. "I replaced all your potions last week, because they were out of date."

"Is there Elderberry in them?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." Snape turned to Percival, with a flurry of robes. "Did Potter think that he was being potioned?"

"Not that I know of. He was studying in the common room last night. There are plenty of witnesses as he helped several second-year students with their charms homework. He never mentioned thinking he had been potioned and he wasn't acting any different to normal."

"Kitchen Elf!" Snape called out. With a pop one of the Hogwarts Elves appeared. "Is the cup that Mr Potter had his tea in this morning still available?"

"I's checking," she popped away, only to re-appear a moment later wringing her hands in her tea-towel. "No sir Snape sir. Washing up is being finished. We's sorry."

"Never mind, you may return to your duties."

"I had several patients last night, though only Miss Granger stayed overnight. I wouldn't have thought she would steal something, she's always seemed so conscientious. They are such good friends surely it couldn't be her," the matron mused.

"What if she thought she was saving him? If she thought, he was being potioned?" Percival asked quietly.

The matron froze, then shook her head, "Well, in the end it doesn't matter how it happened. I'll need to keep him under observation, this reaction is more severe than most I have seen. Hopefully we've caught it in time. I'll inform the Headmaster."

"Madame Pomphrey, you do realise that the Headmaster is not Potter's guardian, don't you?" Percival

"Don't be ridiculous of course he is!" Madame Pomphrey stated, looking at Harry's chart.

"Actually, my Aunt Sera is currently. I can send her a message," Percival offered. "If you give me a note, I'll let our teachers know as well."

Scrawling him a quick note she dismissed him and drew her wand to send her patronus to the Headmaster.

Up in the boy's dormitory, Hermione was feeling frustrated. There was just no evidence of the boy's treachery anywhere. No random notes, no diary, no…..trunk? Well now that was odd! The boy was not an idiot, he scored….nearly….as well as her on all the papers she had managed to catch a glimpse of. Didn't that just add another twist to the mystery. Without access to books like the ones she had read, he just shouldn't be able to do that! With a huff, she pushed the thought aside, no he wouldn't leave evidence just lying around, it would be hidden in his trunk.

Ah ha. There it was. It was half the height of most, so that it could be slipped under the bed, rather than taking up extra room at the end of it. Getting down on her hands and knees she reached out…..

Zing.

"Ow," shaking out her hand she sat back on her haunches. "That sneaky little…." she growled, now even more determined to see what was inside, because surely Percival wouldn't have bothered to put protections in place if he didn't have anything to hide.

A moment later her wand was in her hand, and she was casting all the detection spells she knew at the trunk. It was a puzzle there was actually only a mild stinging hex on it, so that if anyone tried to touch it without the owner's permission, they would get stung. Huh! That was easy to work around, maybe he wasn't so clever after all. Removing her cardigan, Hermione wrapped it round her hand and grasped the handle…success. She pulled the trunk towards herself.

"Right, now let's see what you are hiding, Percival Graves!"

Hand still covered she lifted the lid, a shriek, similar to that a might make banshee was emitted by the trunk, surely that wasn't possible. She had checked. There was no known curses or wards on the trunk. With a growl, the lid was lifted again, the shriek echoed around the room before the lid was slammed shut a second time. Holding her breath, Hermione waited for the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, but none came.

"Well, I know how to fix you," again the lid was lifted though this time a silencing ward was placed around it. "Hmm."

Brown eyes peered into what looked to be the very ordinary trunk of a teenage boy, a mess of cast-off clothes and odd bits of stationary. She heard a tenor voice, drift up from the common room. She had lingered too long! Quickly pushing the trunk away and standing she moved over to Harry's bed and started rifling through his desk drawers (disappointingly these only had paper, quills and a few ink pots in them).

Due to their stops Ron had arrived at the infirmary well ahead of Harry and Percival, in the absence of Madame Pomphrey he had left their bags under Harry's usual bed. Then he had gone to join Seamus and Dean for a quick fly before he realised that he had left his charms text book on his bed and returned to the dormitory.

"What are you doing in here Hermione?" Ron asked, and she could have sighed in relief, as she turned around.

"I just wanted to borrow the map. You know Harry, wouldn't mind. Would you help me find it?"

"Ah….are you sure? I think Harry might have actually given the map back to Sirius."

For some reason Ron was staring at her forehead as he spoke, it was rather odd. Ignoring that she processed what her friend had said. Of course, Harry would give the map back to Sirius, he was an idiot! Maybe with the potions out of his system, he could be persuaded to write Sirius to get it. Yes, she was sure that he would do that for her, once he was all better.

With a flick of her hair Hermione left the room saying, "Well we had best hurry if we want to make it to class on time."

Ron didn't follow Hermione immediately, still trying to process what he had seen as he gathered his books.

Waiting impatiently at the front of the line to file into class, Hermione, didn't notice the murmurings behind her, nor did she pay any attention to the little squeak that Professor Flitwick made when he spelled the door open.

"Miss Granger, perhaps you would like to go and see Madame Pomphrey," the diminutive man suggested.

"But I feel quite well Professor, and I don't want to miss out on class!" Hermione protested, trying to step around the professor.

Eyes on her forehead he emitted a second squeak and stepped in front of her preventing her entry to the classroom, "I really think it is best. In fact, yes, in fact I must insist. Miss Patil, if you could go with her." He shooed them from the room.

"I…I…don't understand? I'm not sick!" Hermione complained.

With a titter, Parvati just smiled, "Don't you know?"

"Don't I know what?" Hermione was getting frustrated now. "Of course, I would know if I am sick, and I'm not!"

"Come on, it's an excuse to get out of class anyway." Grabbing a shirt sleeve, Parvati dragged the protesting girl through the halls muttering, "It's not my place to tell her! But it certainly explains a few things."

"Parvati, stop it! Let me go, I want to go back to class."

"Hermione, the Professor told me to take you to the Infirmary, and that is exactly what I am going to do! And I am going to do it as quickly as possible. Clearly you don't know anything about me if you thought that my comment before was serious. I may not love learning as much as my sister, but I am far from dumb and I was looking forward to today's lesson, so move that backside now, or by the Gods I promise you that I will hex it off!"

Not knowing how to take this attack from the usually happy go lucky girl, Hermione swallowed, and said "Ok," finally walked towards the Hospital wing.

Pushing open the doors, Parvati said, "Oh. I had wondered why Harry, wasn't at class. You know, last year after the Yule Ball I thought he was a bit of an arse, but now I realise, he was just shy and was embarrassed that he couldn't dance. Well here you are. I'm sure that Madame Pomphrey will be out in a minute." Task complete she left to go back to class.

"Harry!" Ignoring the departing girl Hermione quickly crossed the room. "What happened to you?"

"I was hoping that you or Mr Weasley would be able to tell me," Madame Pomphrey said as she exited her office.

"Me!" Hermione made her eyes wide in faux innocence. "You know me Madame Pomphrey, I wouldn't do such a thing. What's wrong with him?"

"Someone took a potion from my cabinet Miss Granger," the Matron said sombrely, "and that abominable person fed that potion to Harry. Who happens to be allergic to one of the ingredients. He is currently in what we call Anaphylactic shock and I am waiting to see if we were able to treat him in time, or if he will need to be sent to St Mungos to have all of his major organs removed and regrown as they fail."

"But he's going to be all right, isn't he? You'll discharge him tomorrow just like normal?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, at this point I cannot say whether I will be able to discharge him…at all!" Madame Pomphrey said dramatically, trying to impress the girl with the seriousness of the situation. The message didn't seem to be getting through, it was very strange, and not at all what Poppy expected from Miss Granger. "Now why are you here?"

"Oh, Harry, wasn't in class, so I thought I would just pop up and see him." There was no need to mention that the Professor had sent her, after all she still felt perfectly fine.

"Miss Granger you expect me to believe that you, the girl that the Headmaster claims is the brightest witch of her age," Hermione puffed up in pride. "Is skiving off lessons to visit your friend?" Something vicious flashed across the usually motherly face, just for a second, as Hermione nodded. "So you aren't here to have me remove the word that you currently have inscribed on your forehead then? Good, I doubt there is anything I can do about it anyway. Off you go now back to class!"

"What!" Hermione screeched, running to the corner where there was a sink with a small mirror above it. There on her forehead in neon green letters was the word THIEF. "You have to get it off! I can't…How am I supposed to go to classes like this!"

"Hmpf, so you do want me to look at it then I suppose. Come over here and sit down," Madame Pomphrey pulled out a chair. "Let me see," she drew her wand, and waved it muttering a few words. Then she sighed, "if I had to make a guess Miss Granger, I would say it is timed. I've seen something like it a long time ago when I was in training. I believe it is an Auror grade spell. They use it to protect evidence lockers. The good news is, in the case I saw, the word faded after around two weeks, and no permanent damage was left behind."

"But I can't be out of lessons for two weeks!"

"I should think not. Are you feeling unwell Miss Granger?" The now tearful girl shook her head. "Exactly and so you aren't exempt from class."

"But I can't go around with this on my face!"

"Well perhaps you should have thought of that before you took whatever it was." Moving away from the girl and back towards the office, she said sternly over her shoulder, "And do not think that I am not aware Miss Granger, you were the only one with access to my potions store last night. In the future I believe I shall be implementing a similar protection to the one you have fallen foul of. The Headmaster may have protected you from punishment this time, if it should happen again however, I can guarantee that you will not like the consequences."

The door closed behind her with a loud bang.

The four specialist Healers from St Mungos had arrived midmorning and had spent an hour arguing over what to do. It appeared that there had been some damage to Harry's kidneys and liver, but two of them thought that they would recover if left alone. Whereas the other two felt that the they should be removed immediately before the death of the organ released toxic waste into Harry's blood and he died, he was already showing the prescence of a toxin in his blood. They were all in agreement however that they were being hampered by their location and that the boy would be much better treated if he were to be moved to St Mungos. A point Madame Pomphrey agreed with, but at the moment they were all being stymied by Albus Dumbledore who didn't want to let the boy out of his sight and had extracted vows from each of the Healers so that they couldn't talk about what had befallen the boy to anyone else. No one was allowed in to see Harry, who didn't already know what was going on.

It was lunchtime, before Percival was able to make his way back to the Hospital wing. Pushing open the doors released a cacophony of sound into the hall outside.

"Shut up!" he thundered. "How is this helping Harry?" he gave them his best, Senior Auror, 'bring the rookies into line', stare.

"They are trying to decide on what the best option is to treat Harry," Madame Pomphrey explained.

"You can't just tell the boy! What about the vows!" protested the Senior Healer.

With a wave of her hand Madame Pomphrey dismissed his complaints explaining, "Percival is the one who bought him here. He already knows most of what is going on."

"Have you contacted his Healer yet?" Percival asked.

"I am Mr Potter's Healer," Madame Pomphrey stated.

"While he is at school, yes. However, over the summer he was been being treated extensively by Healer Addison Hedgerow, for several ongoing conditions.

"Addison! Oh, that's good, can we get him on board I'm sure if we explain it right, he'll take the vow," the Senior Healer said, relaxing slightly.

"Healer Addison has already made a vow to Harry, so he should be covered already. Besides I haven't taken the oath," Percival added helpfully.

The Senior Healer had his wand out almost before Percival had finished talking, "Custos Expecto Loquentes, Addison old fellow, I need you to come to Hogwarts. We have a problem with a patient of yours. Password is Poppy." A silver serpent slithered through the wall.

Five minutes later a hawk patronus flew into the room, "Be there in ten. This had better be important Reginald, I've had to cut short my appointment with the Danish Royal family! You owe me!"

The floo flared, and Healer Addison emerged from the green flames, "Are you the problem Percival?"

Percival sombrely shook his head and stepped to the side, revealing the bed on which Harry lay, "Someone spiked his tea with a cleansing potion stolen from the Infirmary store. He's allergic…"

"To Elderberry, yes. Oh dear, let me see him." Addison opened his notes on Harry and cast several charms comparing the results to the ones listed in the file. He hummed consideringly and made his way over to where the other Healers had gathered around Poppy's desk. "How long was he exposed before he received treatment?"

"Oh Harry," Percival turned away from the Healers and picked up the pale hand. "The others can't come and see you just yet. I suspect Dumbledore doesn't want the bad press he'd receive if it got out that someone had poisoned the Boy-Who-Llived, while he was at school. With the High Inquisitor thing going on he can 't really aff…"

As if the mere mention of her had drawn her to the room, the doors burst open with a crash to reveal Madame Umbridge.

"Where is Mr Potter!" she demanded. "He should have been in my class this morning. I won't give him special treatment! If he doesn't have a very good reason for being here, then he'll have detention with me for the rest of the year. Well?" Her foot was tapping on the floor impatiently as she waited for an explanation.

"Unfortunately," Healer Reginald said. "The Headmaster has had us vow not to reveal the exact illness which has befallen Mr Potter. I can however tell you that at this point in time, we still don't know how long it will take him to recover. The illness is very severe indeed."

Another Healer added, "I would expect him to be unconscious and unable to attend lessons, let alone detentions, for several days at least, and this may extend to weeks, depending how well he responds to treatment."

"Are you sure that he is not merely faking it?" she sneered. "He has done that before you know. In fact I believe that the ministry would like to arrange a second opinion with one of our healers."

Addison was not going to tolerate that! "Madame, I am Healer Addison Baldric Hedgerow, I have been called here by my colleagues to consult on this case and I can confirm that the boy is indeed unconscious and unlikely to wake anytime soon. In fact, he may drop into a healing coma at any time. If his results deteriorate any further, I will be taking him to a better equipped facility myself, where I will medically induce a coma. At which point he will not return for some considerable time."

"Oh! Carry on then," as she turned away her smirk grew. Well it wasn't quite what she had planned for removing the boy, but it certainly opened up some interesting possibilities. She hurried away to make a floo call to tell Cornelius the good news.

It was late almost curfew, Hermione sat on a couch in the common room, with books and papers spread out around her. Truthfully, she didn't know herself if it was her sulky attitude or the word written on her face that was keeping other people away. She had returned to the common room after seeing Madame Pomphrey and had tried 'borrowing' some more of Lavender's makeup to see if that would cover the mark. It didn't! She should complain to the company about false advertising. In the end she had grabbed a cap and pulled it down over her head. Only to have Professor Snape, git that he was, make her remove it the moment she walked into the potions classroom. At least he hadn't laughed unlike all of the Slytherins.

Seeing Harry lying in that bed, had….well it had made something twist inside her. Was it guilt? That was a possibility. Though she knew she had given him the potion for his own good. The reaction was an accident. After all how was she to know that he had an allergy? Maybe she could ask Ron, if he knew what Harry was allergic to. That way it wouldn't happen again, after all as soon as Percival was aware that Harry had been freed, he would potion him again, so she would need to find a solution and the sooner the better.

Well she wasn't achieving anything sitting in the common room, staring at her books, so Hermione decided to go to bed. The mood in the dormitory was tense, but Hermione assumed that Fay and Lavender were fighting again. Surely a shower would make her feel better, and she could put the bad feeling behind her. Obviously, it wasn't her fault that Harry had been so badly affected, and when he recovered he would be potion free for at least a little, because Madame Pomphrey would be keeping a close eye on him. Then Hermione would be able to convince him that Percival was potioning him. As she prepared, for bed, she never even noticed the glares that were being sent her way.

"Goodnight," she said obliviously as she pulled her curtains shut.

Harry slept on, well more accurately he lay, blissfully unaware of the goings on around him. He didn't hear the arguments in the common room, or notice when Ron, Neville and even Percival broke down (in the privacy of their beds, with their curtains drawn) as the days passed. The longer he stayed quiescent the more worried they became. While in his mind, he was drifting, floating on clouds, nothing could touch him. It was so peaceful that he felt he could stay there forever. Until a black spot intruded on his peacefulness. An evil feeling darkness, that was growing. It was danger! If the danger could find him here, it could find him anywhere. What of those he had left behind. He suddenly recalled, a man, who had grown from being a skin covered skeleton into a handsome, vibrant being. A boy with red hair, and cerulean eyes, full of laughter. Another dark of hair, with kind eyes and a warmth that grew, spreading from his hand and taking over his whole body. Who would protect them from the growing darkness if he did not?

Crawling, pulling, writhing, he made his way back to consciousness with a gasp. The warmth was still there, he noticed as his eyes flickered open to gaze up at the white ceiling.

"Good to see you again Mr Potter," a familiar voice said.

The hand holding his squeezed tightly.

"I would like you to try and say something, if you could," the voice said.

"….w…w'tr" he managed to mumble.

Cool glass was pressed to his lips, and a few drops of water were dripped into his mouth. They were painful to swallow.

"Gently does it. It is very difficult to drink lying down." He was given a few more drops of liquid. "Take your time. Try talking again, when you are ready."

"W'at 'appen'd?"

"Someone slipped a potion into your tea. You had a massive allergic reaction to it. We spent two days, regrowing your liver and kidneys and you have been unconscious for a further two days. Percival here was beginning to worry about you."

"Persss," Harry murmured.

"I'm here Harry," his hand was squeezed once more. "Go back to sleep, you'll be better soon."

The warmth over took him and this time he experienced nothing.

She had snuck into the infirmary, it was demeaning really, but Cornelius had insisted that she take steps while the boy was vulnerable. With a curse she noticed the body that was laying on the adjacent bed. It would do no good to get caught. Walking silently, she made her way to the Healers desk. Stifling a giggle at the sight of the file on the desk. The silly Medi-witch hadn't even bothered to secure his file. A lumos, lit the page, as she read the boy's history, searching for anything that could be used.


	15. Chapter 15

It was hard for Harry to be patient through his recovery. He had never been one for sitting still, never having had the opportunity during his formative years. The few times he had fallen ill, Petunia had glared at him in disgust, and sent him outside to do yard work so that he didn't contaminate her Duddykins, but that was in the days before…..the days before Percival. The long hours of rest were draining, but according to Madame Pomphrey re-growing a Liver was a nasty business (now where had he heard that before?), without taking into account his kidneys.

Somehow, he came to be sitting facing Severus Snape who had brought an enquiry from the Headmaster. The whole situation was somewhat confusing to Harry. Why hadn't Dumbledore just visited him, himself?

"The Headmaster wishes to know, how you are feeling Mr Potter," Snape stated.

A surprised laugh, emerged from Harry's lips, before he sobered upon seeing Snape's frown, "Oh! You're serious."

"Do not compare me to that Mutt!" Harry noted the slight twist to the corner of his mouth.

"Did…did you just make a joke Sir?" Harry wondered out aloud in his shock.

"Just answer the question, Potter," Snape said dryly.

"You haven't asked one yet," Harry grinned. Then continued more sombrely, "It's just weird. If Dumbledore was actually interested in me why didn't he just come down here and ask himself? It's like he's concerned for me but at the same time he's not. Or maybe he just wants to appeared concerned?"

"Do not start! Are you well?"

"To be honest Sir, I feel terrible. I'm tired all the time. Yesterday I fell asleep in the middle of eating breakfast! Percival had to take my cup of tea so I didn't burn myself tipping it over! Every part of me aches and ….." he let out a puff of air that moved his fringe. "It doesn't do to focus on it. I'm getting better, I didn't sleep as much today as I did yesterday, and I've been able to start catching up on the schoolwork I've missed. Including completing the pop quiz that Madame Umbridge set me."

"I had heard about the last. It seems she was most displeased that you managed to score so well. In fact, I believe you out scored every class who took the test."

Harry had heard about it too, Ron had reported that several students had been given detention over the results.

"But this is not what I mean." Snape continued, "Albus wants to know if your scar has been acting up. Have you been having any unusual feelings, urges or visions?"

"No," Harry shook his head, looking up at his teacher shyly. "Though can I tell you something in confidence?"

"Go ahead Mr Potter, be aware if it affects your health, I may advise your Godfather or your Healer."

"It's ok they already know." Harry waived away the concern. "I had been getting feelings that I knew came from outside of myself. They started after the tournament. I assume you know where they are coming from, because of this Percival has been teaching me Occlumency. He says I am doing well. If I remember to practice every night, then I don't have any trouble. Every time something has come through since I started learning, it has been because I have gone several nights without."

"The Headmaster is expecting you to experience more visions, I am unsure of the reasoning behind this. He seems to think that you might be able to tell us Riddle's next move. I was to encourage you to advise the Mutt when they occur. However, _I_ would also encourage you to continue practicing your Occlumency. Any potential gain that could be made by seeing what the Dark Lord is up to, is far outweighed by the potential for him to find out about the link and to turn it to his advantage. He would use it to trick, deceive or possibly drive you mad. Just how proficient is Mr Graves?" he wondered out loud. The boy was only months older than Harry and Occlumency was an incredibly difficult thing to teach. "I believe I shall need to check your barriers, though you need to recover first. It is unlikely that we will find time to do this before the winter holidays, but we will arrange something by the time we return after Yule."

"What about our trip to explore the chamber?" Harry pressed. "Will we have time for that?"

With a long-suffering sigh, the dour man replied, "I suppose I did promise. But first you need to be able to manage all those stairs!"

Harry groaned dramatically but still did another round of the exercises Healer Addison prescribed, as soon as the Professor was replaced by Percival. In the end it was Percival who told Harry how he came to be so ill.

"You became sick right after breakfast so we assume that someone slipped a potion into your tea or the milk you used in your porridge. It must have contained Elderberry…"

"Which caused the reaction," Harry nodded.

"And with the other symptoms, it was probably in a cleansing potion."

"I never thanked you did I?" Harry asked thoughtfully, a cute crinkle in his brow.

"For what?"

"For getting me up here. It can't have been a very pleasant thing to do! It's all a bit foggy to me," Harry continued to frown.

"Well, it wasn't the best thing I have ever had to do, but it wasn't the worst either. I'm not surprised that you don't remember. I had to carry you from the third floor."

"Oh Perce, I'm sorry I didn't mean to be so much trouble."

"It's hardly your fault someone spiked your tea is it? I'm just glad that I was there to help."

Harry nodded, "I mean it though. Thank you." He tipped his head to the side, "It was Hermione wasn't it?"

Percival gave a wry grin, "It seems like she is the most likely culprit. Especially if she thinks I have been giving you potions".

"Which we discussed on the first night back." He let out a sigh, "I suppose at least that means it wasn't a deliberate attempt at hurting me. I don't think she would know about my allergy. How do we get her to stop?"

"I really don't know."

Percival didn't mention the other thing that Hermione had done. In fact he wouldn't have mentioned it to anyone at all if Ron hadn't confronted him about it, as he figured that her disfiguring was enough of a consequence. Now both boys were keeping a close watch on the girl. Unsurprisingly Harry was almost the only student to be able to hold a conversation with Hermione, during the two weeks she waited for the word to disappear, that managed to look her in the eye. She had certainly been a lot more subdued during that fortnight, however it remained to be seen whether it would have any long last affects.

Delores had a plan! Oh she couldn't wait. If she was lucky she would remove that little pawn from the playing field permanently. It was just a pity that she couldn't act on it immediately. No, too many questions would raised if she tried right now. However by Christmas everyone would have forgotten this little incident and then she could do what she liked. Maybe Cornelius would give her a reward. He wasn't a bad boss really, though she did wonder if he was ambitious enough. She picked up her pink chintz patterned china cup of tea, and smirked. Well she could always have him replaced if he wasn't living up to her expectations, now couldn't she.

Finally, Remus had made it to the camp. It was nothing much, merely a collection of tents around the edge of a large clearing in the forest.

"The wanderer returns!" a sarcastic voice called.

Turning around quickly, Remus caught sight of the wolf who had spoken. He was big, certainly bigger than Remus, a solid tower of sinew and muscle topped with thick blonde hair.

"Aiden," Remus replied with a friendly smile. "It's been a while."

"You never come without a reason," the man stated flatly.

It was a much more aggressive response than Remus had been expecting, "Have…have I offended you in some way?"

"Remus," the man looked him in the eye. "You are a wizard, and we respect the choice that you made. Look around you….." with a wide sweep of one arm he gestured to the village. "We are not a wizarding people. We are a people, who have been victimised, bullied and thrown out like the rubbish that lines the streets of London. When you last came, you helped us by educating the children. It was appreciated, but the moment you heard from that man, you left the children behind. Were they not worthy of your attention?"

Remus opened his mouth and took a breath. It took another exhalation before he felt he had formed a worthy reply. "You are right," he acknowledged, "what I did was wrong. I dropped everything when he called. You're not the first in recent days to point out that I have been following him blindly."

Remus turned and took a few steps over to a fallen log, he sat before continuing, "It wasn't just him this last time. It was the opportunity to meet my best friends' son. He was hidden away from me when James died. It was the one chance I had to meet my …..pup."

"You feel that much for the boy?" Aiden sat beside the frail man, stern demeanour softening somewhat.

"I do, but he doesn't feel the same way. He…it was him that pointed out that I have allowed the debt, I felt that I owed to Albus Dumbledore for enabling me to attend Hogwarts, to grow into a thing that could be used to control me at the cost of my own family. My pup was…..he was neglected and I fell for every one of Dumbledore's pretty platitudes. I've been looking you know, into what he had done for everyone else. Do you know what I realised….I realised he hadn't done a damn thing. There has not been another werewolf since me to attend Hogwarts. None of the laws have been repealed, they've only been added to."

Remus, dropped his head into his hands.

"I know. Why are you here now?"

"He..Albus wanted me to come and persuade the tribes to join his side in the fight against Tom Riddle."

"Who?"

"It's the real name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There is some thought that his other name might be a Taboo once again."

Aiden snorted, "What's he offering us?"

"That's the thing," Remus said with a derisive laugh. "Nothing! He has nothing more to offer than last time."

"You said he wanted you to do this, but what are you actually here to do?" Aiden raised a brow in challenge.

"I….I'm here to warn you. These…." he looked around the clearing. "These are your family. Protect them as you can. Get away from the isles if it is at all possible. I believe both sides, want nothing more than to use you. I loved working with the kids, teaching…" he collapsed into his hands again.

A warm hand found his shoulder, "What warning Remus?"

"Tom Riddle has risen again, Dumbledore is opposing him, but I fear he is not as light as any of us want to believe. I am in too deep, and can not get away, but you and the children, get them…keep them safe!"

"You are a good man Remus, thank you for your warning. Where are you going next?"

"I still have to try, so I guess I will head to speak to Soren. And then I must try Fenrir's pack, maybe some can be convinced to find their own path."

"You will find no welcome there. Everyone of them is as vicious as their Alpha. That's a suicide mission."

"Yeah, so Sirius said."

"At least rest the night. Greet the children for they have missed you. Renee has taken over the lessons. She is not as knowledgeable as you, but she tries hard."

"She was always very patient."

"Come, eat and sleep before you continue."

"Thank you, and Aiden. For what little it's worth, I'm sorry."

A firm clapped on the shoulder was the only acknowledgement Remus received.

A small group of fifth years had taken to meeting in one of the empty classrooms on the third floor. When they first discovered it, held a few broken desks and chairs that had been left abandoned over the years, With Harry's skill, born from picking over Dudley's old toys and repairing anything useful, and the help of Dobby, they had mostly been fixed up and pushed together. The truly damaged ones had been removed by the house elves. There was even a small bookshelf against one wall, and a couch, that Dobby had popped into the room from only the Gods knew where.

It was a comfortable space, where they could bring their problems and homework, when they wanted a place to get away from their common rooms. They had been joined over time, by a half dozen of the younger students, who had requested mentoring, Fred, George and Lee, who were always looking for a quiet out of the way spot to work on prank items and the Gryffindor chasers. While most were Gryffindors, Luna had turned up the night after Harry, had finished repairing the furniture, dragging a couple of bean bags behind her. Sometime around the start of the second week, they had also been joined by a couple of first-year Hufflepuffs, Hannah Abbot and oddly enough Blaise Zabini from Slytherin. Ron had studied the boy intently at first, but as he sat right down and help a third year Gryffindor with her runes Homework, he was content keeping an eye on the situation.

Currently Harry was standing beside Neville and Ron on the far side of the room, working on blasting hexes, which they were aiming at small blocks of wood, that were floating against the wall. Percival was practicing shields with Fay, Dennis and Colin in the middle of the room to prevent any shrapnel created flying and disturbing the students sitting at the desks. As usually Luna was sitting on a bean bag, head on the floor and legs in the air, reading the Quibbler.

"Bombarda!"

"Confringo!"

Two blocks burst.

"Well done, now we need to have them move," Harry lifted his wand.

"But! I thought you said it was all about accuracy, managing to hit a small target, or something," Ron protested.

"Well it is. Imagine that you are facing off against a Death Eater, but they are standing over against the wall there," Harry pointed. "In the middle, you might have, Neville. You don't want to hit him! You want to be able to hit whatever small piece of the Death Eater you can see."

"But why must it move Harry, it's too hard!"

"Death Eaters aren't going to just stand there and let you take pot shots at them Ron. Worse yet they'll be firing back at you, but we'll work on combining different moves later."

"Argh!" Ron groaned, but lifted his wand wearily. He wouldn't give up, but sometimes it was hard work being Harry's best friend.

There was a sharp rapping at the door, before it was pushed open, to bang against the wall. Cho Chang blushed heavily as she was revealed in the door way.

"Um….sorry. But someone mentioned there was a study group….and ah…I thought…..I might…..if….it's alright?" her friend Marietta Edgecombe was standing in her shadow, a number of books clenched in her arms.

Harry just shrugged and turned back to Neville and Ron, with a flick and a swish, he conducted the blocks in their swaying from side to side, like the pendulum on a pair of Grandfather clocks.

Another week passed and the room was no longer the quiet haven that it had started out as. It seemed to have morphed into some sort of inter-house meeting place. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but didn't have the same atmosphere the group had been looking for originally. Somewhere along the line, Hermione had come in and started tutoring all and sundry, the Ravenclaw sixth years had taken over the bookshelf and couch, while the Hufflepuff second years refused to leave the beanbags. It was now impossible to practice spell casting for fear of hitting someone, and it was only a matter of time before Umbridge found them and booted them all out.

Harry looked around the room with a sigh, "I wish there was somewhere else we could go?"

"I suppose we could move to another room?" Percival shrugged. "Now they have this, I doubt that all of them would follow."

"Where though,"

"The snuffle gouts told me that they have been hibernating on the fifth floor," Luna said as she walked up beside them.

"In that case lead the way, Luna," Harry smiled.

The room was perfect, well it was a suite of rooms really. Sometime in the past, a Professor wanting a larger teaching space had half opened up the space between their office and the classroom. There was a large open space, that had obviously once been the classroom, with an adjoining alcove, about the size of one of the teachers offices. Through a door in the alcove that was perpendicular to the classroom, was another set of rooms, that must have once been the professors' private quarters, consisting of a small sitting room, bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom, had enough, ventilation and space that they could use it for potions. The sitting room, would be ideal for a quiet study area, and the open spaces would work for spell casting a group study.

Harry sighed. There of course was a problem, while he didn't like the size that the group had grown to, having been so often excluded by the Dursley's he really didn't want to exclude anyone. Though it would be nice to have something just for themselves.

Luna and Percival watched the warring emotions drift across Harry's face.

"I…" his brow crinkled. "I…."

"We don't have to tell them," Percival said.

"But it's….selfish…."

"The snuffle gouts, don't want just everyone here, Harry," Luna said firmly. "I think we should encourage the nargles to stay away, don't you think, Percival?" Her luminous silver gaze drifted up to meet his eyes.

"I think that can probably be arranged. How about an intent based ward?" he asked.

"Can we do that in the school?" Harry asked.

"I don't see why not,"

"Should we just ask Hogwarts? Maybe she could put up wards for us?"

They pressed their hands to the cool stone, it was an odd feeling, a mix of positive and negative emotions.

"I guess not."

"It's alright Harry, and how about we split our time. We can get quiet study done here, and then head over to the other room, to chat with everyone else, so nobody is left out."

They called Dobby, and asked him to see if there was anymore abandoned furniture that they could use. It only took half an hour to transform the room. Percival had engraved, several chunks of black tourmaline with the runes that would keep the room from being noticed. Harry and Luna cleaned out the rooms, and made sure the furniture was all in good order and Dobby provided them with more desks, chairs and a large purple bean bag.

"It's perfect," Harry smiled as they left pulling the door shut behind them.

The trick was to spend enough time in, what they now dubbed, the rec (recreational) room, that no-one really noticed them missing. There was of course the usual group, that followed them over to the new 'study', but this time the secret was well kept.

It was the last Friday before Christmas Holidays, and the 'rec' room, was buzzing with activity. Dobby had apparently taken it upon himself to decorate the room for Christmas. There was a hundred golden baubles suspended from the ceiling and a banner hung over the middle of the room that read: _HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS! _

Harry only just managed to get it down before the door creaked open and Luna entered, looking as dreamy as usual.

"Hello," she said vaguely, looking around at what remained of the decorations. "These are nice, did you put them up?

"No," said Harry, "It was Dobby."

"Mistletoe," said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries, placed almost over Harry's head. He jumped out from under it, feeling thankfully it wasn't one of the bunches he had seen Fred and George enchanting that afternoon.

"Good thinking," said Luna very seriously. "It's often infested with Nargles."

Harry grinned. As the room began to fill he wondered at the changes. Blaise Zabini, was seated next to a fourth year Ravenclaw. Terry Boot , was asking for help with his Arithmancy homework, from Daphne Greengrass who had turned up with her sister Astoria, just the previous week. There was a smattering of other Slytherins, spread throughout the room, chatting away.

"Harry?" a soft voice, interrupted his thoughts.

"Oh," he turned to see Cho, standing beside him a sheet of parchment in her hand. "Hi Cho."

"Could…I…just," she flushed. "Um, well, you see I have this defence homework to do. It's not actually for Umbridge, but from the Newt papers I found in the library. They say that you're the one to come to for help?"

"I'm only fifth year Cho. I haven't even sat my owls yet," Harry tried to deflect her away, the way she was looking at him made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.

"I know, but even with Umbridge's lesson you still do the best. Could you have a look?" she asked.

"I guess, but don't be upset if …." he held out his hand for the parchment. Her giggle, when their fingers brushed, made Harry frown. Protego, Stupefy, Impedimenta, Petrificus Totalus, Bombarda, Expelliarmus, they had covered every spell on the list last year, while he had been studying for the tournament, none of them were particularly difficult. "Um… Are you having trouble with these."

Cho, looked at him, dipping her head so she had to look through her fringe, her eyelashes fluttered a couple of times as she nodded, smiling at him coyly.

He shrugged, he looked around half expecting Percival to scold him, but couldn't see his friend anywhere. "I guess. I know them. What are you having problems with?"

They cleared a corner of the room while it was still early enough that they had the space. Half an hour later, Harry left Cho to her practice and made his way over to where Marietta Edgecombe was asking Percival questions about Runes. As soon as she saw Harry approaching, she bounced away to her friend.

"I could have used your help earlier you know," Harry said as he pulled out his homework and sat down.

Percival smirked, "You seemed to be doing alright on your own, when I got here."

They weren't alone for long, it seemed that everyone had come to the room, and it turned into some sort of odd Christmas party. It was a long time before the room began to quieten down. Harry was lying on the floor with his head beside Luna's. She was lying inverted on the bean bag once again, head next to Harry's, legs supported by the beanbag, and feet in the air. They were taking turns hovering the Quibbler in front of their faces, trying to do it wandlessly.

"I'd best go," Luna murmured. "Merry Christmas Harry." She plucked the magazine from the air, let her feet fall over her head in a somersault and stood up. "See you next term."

"Bye Luna, have a Great Christmas."

"Happy Yule, Potter," the contingent of Slytherins said as they sauntered over to the exit as a group.

He gave them a lazy wave, "Happy Yule. Blessings be."

Slowly he rolled over, stood up and made a pile of beanbags in the corner so they were out of the way. He heard a hearty sniff and turned to see Cho standing in the middle of the room, tears pouring down her face.

"Wha?"

He didn't know what to do. She was simply standing there crying quietly.

"What's wrong?" he said, uncomfortably.

She shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve,

"I'm - sorry," she said thickly. "I suppose…it's just….learning all this stuff….it makes me wonder…..whether if he'd known it all…..he'd still be alive."

Harry's heart went out to the girl. He ought to have known that she needed to talk about Cedric, and who else would understand?

"He did know this stuff," Harry said quietly. "He was really, really good at it. He had to have been or he would never have got to the middle of the maze. He would never have been selected for the tournament at all. But if …someone as evil as that wants you dead, you don't stand much of a chance."

She hiccoughed loudly, "You survived when you were a baby."

"Yeah, well," Harry said wearily, edging towards the door. "It wasn't anything I did, so it is nothing for me to be proud over."

"Oh, don't go!" said Cho, sounding tearful again. "I'm really sorry to get all upset like this….I didn't mean to.."

She hiccoughed again. "I know it must be horrible for you," she aid mopping her eyes on her sleeve again. "Me mentioning Cedric, when you saw him die….I suppose you want to forget about it?"

"It's no more horrible than it is for you, to have to live without him," Harry said. When she started crying again he wondered if he would have been better not saying anything at all.

"You're a r-really good teacher, you know," said Cho, with a watery smile. "I've never been able to stun anything before."

"Thanks," Harry replied awkwardly.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Harry felt a burning desire to run from the room, but decided that he would feel worse leaving the girl, who was so obviously distressed, alone.

"Mistletoe," said Cho quietly pointing at the ceiling over his head.

"Yeah. It's probably full of Nargles though."

"What are Nargles?"

"No idea, you'd have to ask Luna."

Cho made funny noise, halfway between a sob and a laugh.

"I really like you Harry."

His head flicked around so fast that his neck cracked, and he discovered to his surprise that she was standing so close to him now that he could have counted every freckle on her nose. She was much too close, he could even see the tear still clinging to her eyelashes.

Harry returned to the common room half an hour later to find Percival sitting with Ron and Hermione in the best seats by the fire; nearly everybody else had gone to bed. Hermione was writing a very long letter; she had already filled half a roll of parchment, which dangled from the edge of the table. It was nights like this when she was busy working away that Harry remembered how they all used to get along. Ron was lying on the hearthrug, finishing his transfiguration homework.

"What kept you?" Percival asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to his.

Harry didn't answer. He appeared to be in a state of shock. Half of him wanted to tell them what had happened, and the other wanted to take the secret with him to the grave.

"Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill.

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug, and when Percival's hand touched his shoulder, he almost sighed in relief.

"What's up?" said Ron, hoisting himself up on his elbow to get a cleared view of Harry. "What happened?"

Harry, didn't know quite how to tell them. More importantly he didn't know what to say to Percival.

"Is it Cho?" Hermione asked in a business-like manner.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to Harry," Percival tried to reassure him, but was cut off by Hermione.

"Did she corner you after everyone left?"

Numbly surprised and feeling vaguely ill, Harry nodded.

"What did she- er want?" Ron asked casually.

"She…." Harry began hoarsely, he cleared his throat and tried again. "She -er"

"Did you kiss?" asked Hermione briskly.

Ron sat up so fast he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug. Disregarding this completely, he flicked his gaze from Harry to Percival and back again.

Harry, starred at Percival's blank face, "She…'issed me!"

"What?" said Ron.

"She kissed me. I was standing there, and she was crying about Cedric and I sort of tried to comfort her. To be frank I mustn't have been very good at it because it made her cry more and then she kind of sprang at me!" He was pale, accept for two very bright red marks on his cheeks and he had dropped his eyes, refusing to look at Percival now.

"Well!" said Ron. "How was it?"

"Wet!" Harry said without thinking about it.

"You can't say that Harry! Oh the poor girl. Cho spends half her time crying these days. At mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place. I bet she's all confused because she likes you, but she still likes Cedric, and she probably feels guilty for liking you after what happened to Cedric. Then there is the fact that you were there, that has to complicate matters as well."

"I didn't know what to do," Harry said lamely, looking up slightly at Percival. "I pulled away and tried to explain that I wasn't interested…"

"Oh Harry, you could have been a bit nicer to her. I know she's not Ginny but…still it could have been worse."

"I don't really see how," Harry murmured. "I just hope she understands that I'm really not interested. I think she's more confused than anything else."

"Well, as amusing as it is hear about you embarrassing yourself Harry, now that I have finished this," Ron waved is parchment in the air. "I'm off to bed."

Hermione sighed, "Yes, I think I'll finish this in the morning. Goodnight."

Harry waited for them to leave, his face resting in the his hands. It was not until he was sure that they were gone and he and Percival were alone that he looked up.

"I…." he began, but his throat squeezed shut.

"She pounced at you?" Percival asked with a raised eyebrow, and an amused smirk.

Harry nodded, "It was awful. If that is kissing, I don't think I want to know about it."

"Really," Percival said archly. "Come on. If you are this traumatised over a little kiss, you had best go to bed to recover. Time to go upstairs." He held out his hand and when Harry took it, he pulled the smaller boy to his feet. They stood for a moment chest to chest, Harry looking up into Percival's dark eyes. As Percival leaned down, Harry closed his eyes. There was the gentlest feeling of warmth as their lips met briefly.

They were again, standing in Myrtle's bathroom, clustered around the sink. This time Harry and Percival had been given detention for failing to complete their potion on time. Harry had brushed his hair off his face and Snape had jumped on the opportunity, claiming that it was unhygienic and hair must have fallen in not only his potion but Percival's. He had vanished their work in the last moments of class leaving the pair nothing to hand in. Not that either minded, knowing that he had either seen enough to give them a mark or would let them brew it again later.

"Open," the more Harry used it the easier speaking Parseltongue was becoming. Certainly, Harry could now tell when he spoke it and could use it in the absence of a snake.

Once again, the stairs appeared, after so many nights of detention rendering the carcass, there was no longer any hesitation in entering the tunnel. The second portal was opened, and they moved into the chamber. Only it wasn't the same. Someone, Harry, highly suspected Dobby, had been cleaning. The scum, cobwebs, and insects had all been cleared away and sconces now flickered brightly on the walls. It was practically…cheery!

"Dobby?" Harry called.

"Yes Master Harry Potter Sir," the Elf said, grinning happily.

"Have you been cleaning up in here?"

"No Sir," Dobby pulled at the little uniform he was wearing.

Noting that the Elf fidgeted a bit guiltily Percival asked, "Do you know who has?"

Dobby opened his eyes as wide as they would go, and made a great show of peering around the room. He stuck out his tongue, licked his finger and held it in the air, as one might test wind direction. Finally, when he was happy that no one was watching them he nodded.

"Well who is it Elf?" Snape demanded impatiently, earning a glare from Harry.

"It be Winky!" Dobby whispered dramatically.

"Winky?" Harry said in surprise. "But you said she was depressed and has a problem with…"

With a snap of his fingers Dobby took away Harry's ability to speak, "We does not speak of it, Harry Potter Sir."

It was only the second time Harry had seen Dobby upset, the first time being with Mr Malfoy though that was anger, he swallowed and nodded. Another snap restored his voice.

"Sorry Dobby!"

"Winky be's trying to impress so she be finding a new family too."

"But who is going to see the chamber? Surely, she won't find a new family here. Only the three of us ever come down here," Severus said.

"Harry Potter be seeing," Dobby said nodding smugly.

"Yes, but Dobby I have you. And I barely have enough work to keep you occupied at the moment!" Harry protested.

"Dobby told Winky about Harry Potter Sir's Godfather's house, lots to do there."

"But Sirius has Kreacher."

"Kreacher is being old, and needing help," Dobby said dismissively.

"Why Sirius though?"

Snape hummed thoughtfully, "Because Barty Crouch Senior's wife was Lacerta Black. So Winky would still be working for someone in the family, especially if she was Mrs Crouch's elf before she got married."

Dobby nodded happily.

"All right Dobby. Could you thank Winky for the work that she's done, and tell her I promise I'll talk to Sirius?" The Elf nodded. "How are you going finding….."

Dobby looked at him with a frown. "Don't be giving secrets! Dobby's job is to protect Harry Potter Sir's secrets."

"Right, um. Well how are you going looking for that book?"

Dobby tugged at his ears.

"Don't punish yourself Dobby!"

"Can't find it anywhere. Have followed the bearded goat everywhere. Is not here."

"That's ok, we'll have to have a think about where it could be hidden, and come back to it later. In the meantime, could you try and find any of my parents old text books for me, maybe their school trunks? It would mean a lot."

Happy to have another mission the Elf popped away.

"Well, it all the interruptions are over, I suggest we get moving before it is time for curfew!" Snape said brusquely.

"Yes Sir," Harry agreed, eagerly and led them to the back of the room, where the mouth to Slytherin's statue still stood open. "Um, are there any detection spells we should try?"

"Revelare," Snape's wand slashed, there was a flash of light, and then nothing.

"Maybe try it in Parseltongue?" Percival suggested.

Harry hissed, there was the tell tale flash of success but nothing was revealed. "Right so if we can go on then?"

Percival pulled him back as he went to step into the opening, "Not you first."

"But…" Harry looked at him quizzically.

Percival slapped Harry on the back of the head, and hissed "Now I know why you need a Shield, because you are incapable of taking care of yourself!"

He glared into Harry's green eyes, until he saw them drop, and a blush crawl over the other boys cheeks. The spy said nothing but saw it all, making a mental note to confront the boy later.

"Not you either, Sir!" Percival sniped as their professor made to move. Snape turned his glare on the boy, who met it with a supremely unimpressed one of his own. "Not only are you a Spy for Riddle, but you practically live in Dumbledore's pocket. We have no known way of explaining it should something happen to you down here. I have received some unique training at home that means I am the best choice. If something goes wrong we can just put it down to an accident while practicing spells unsupervised, or exposure to a toxic combination of potions ingredients."

With a slight incline of his head, Snape stepped back and allowed Percival to lead the way into the room, beyond the opening. It was a simple stone room, that had a spiral path that lead up the inside of the statue. At the top they could just see a platform, presumably for the snake to rest its head on and gaze out of Salazar's eyes. At the back was an arch, through which they found another simple chamber with a tunnel on the opposite wall, and a door to the right. A quick glance revealed the tunnel was likely built specifically for the serpents access.

"I believe that will lead up and out to the forrest," Snape commented, as he returned from walking a few steps in. "The walls aren't sealed, thought the edges are smoothed off the stones, on all sides, with wear. At some point we might need to consider how to seal it."

"Well that leaves…" Harry pointed to the wooden door, he hissed. In the aftermath of the flash the door shone blue.

"Well, the question is did Riddle find this room, when he was a student here? Or was the last person to enter Salazar Slytherin?" Snape mused.

"No, I think the question is…" Percival paused as Harry approached the door. "Harry, stop!"

The boy paused, glanced at them for a moment, before turning back to the door. Percival reached out and shook him by the arm, "Let me try, you promised you would listen."

The oath bought Harry to a stand still, "ok."

"Good. Revelare," the door glowed blue again. "Right." Percival raised his wand, and cast several other detection spells, some left the door glowing and others did not. It was rather impressive the way his wand slashed and whirled, emitting quite a light show. Snape raised a brow, at some of the spells, there were several he had never heard of. Special training indeed. Eventually Percival stopped with a sigh, and turned to Harry.

"I believe that it has been spelled with Parseltongue. It just seems to be sealed so a simple, Finite, or Alohamora should be enough. Try finite, first," he stepped back.

Harry hissed at the door. Then nodded at Percival who pushed the door open, to reveal what appeared to be a study. A single row of books sat on a shelf that was attached to the wall over the desk. There was another door, in the wall opposite to the one they had entered by, but they left that alone for the time being.

"Try the revealing spell again Harry," Percival prompted.

Nothing further was revealed.

"Well this seems, slightly underwhelming," Snape commented. As he glanced over the contents of the desk. Harry stared at the painting on the wall, which seemed strange in its frozen state. "Harry can you read this?" Snape held out the book he had picked up.

Taking it Harry glanced at the pages, "It's a diary. Can't you read it?" At the shake of Snape's head, he flipped to the last page, "I leave this to you the next Heir of Slytherin. Be not deceived as I have been. Things are not well at Hogwarts," he read aloud. "It seems rather ominous."

"But was it written by Slytherin or Riddle?" Percival asked.

Harry flicked through the pages, "There is more than one style of writing here, and the words change slightly. This is the last in the book, so it would have to be Riddle, wouldn't it?"

He carefully placed the book on the desk, uncertain as to whether he wanted to read it or not. Raising his eyes he found the books on shelf. "_The Art of Altruism_, _Healing Potions_, _Practical Parselmagic for the Healer. _They don't really sound like the sorts of titles that Tom Riddle would read do they?" he looked at Snape.

"I can see you do not wish to read the diary Potter, but it might be the only way we can find out, what has happened here."

"I'm unsure," Harry acknowledged. "After…..what happened in the chamber with Ginny, I'm cautious however I also don't want to leave it lying around the dorm. Can you imagine what would happen if it was found? It also doesn't feel like that book we found the other day nor Riddle's diary, but with…..our things aren't safe. Ron said someone had been going thorough our things."

"Could we set this room up to study in Professor? That way it can stay down here. After Christmas if Harry is cleared by his Healer, I mean to start teaching him some defensive spells, but we will need to practice."

"I will set up alert wards in the front chamber. That way I will know when you are here and if you get hurt," Snape agreed with a nod. "I might even tie them to the Mutt as well, just in case I am otherwise preoccupied. We can set up the tunnel as an entrance for him."

Percival nodded in agreement.

"You must leave now!" Snape said suddenly. "The Headmaster is in Myrtle's bathroom and while he does not speak Parsletongue, I believe he can imitate it!"

"Dobby!" Harry called. "Can you pop us somewhere there are no students or portraits, please? As close to Gryffindor Tower as you can." The Elf appeared and snatched the boys by the hands and disappeared with a pop, as Severus put his hand on the castle wall, requesting an exit into his own staffroom.

Dumbledore paused as he ran a finger over the sketched picture of the snake. Three years ago the boy had spoken about the chamber below the school and he hadn't paid any heed. The way the boy was acting now, reminded him of another child from half a century ago, who had also discovered the chamber. After intimating to Harry that there was a connection between the two he hadn't thought on it any more. Perhaps there was something to it after all. At the time the boy had been too caught up in his acts of heroism to truly understand the possible significance of what he had un-covered. Time and the traumatic events would have erased the immediate curiosity. No, there was no doubt in the Headmaster's mind that the boy would not have had the slightest interest in returning to the chamber. If Slytherin had a chamber under the school, what treasures could be lying there? Having them be re-discovered now could, be beneficial in bolstering is flagging support, or provide evidence against his foes. He raised his wand with a grin.

Crash!

Turning his head towards the noise he paused for a moment, but after a slight reverberation the sound stopped. Whatever it was Argus Filch would clean it up he was sure. Albus turned back to the sink.

Smash!

The old man sighed. He should really look into what was going on, after all it was HIS school. Quickly making his way into the corridor, he met with what at first seemed to be a bemusing sight. Peeves was having a pitched battle with the suits of armour in the hallway. Peeves lobbed a lump of stone at the armour in front of him. It drew its sword of steel and swiped at the stone, sending the split pieces bouncing off back up the hall away from the Headmaster. There was a cry as with another smash a stone hit the castle window, and glass shards flew in every direction, showering a group of students, that the Headmaster hadn't seen previously but whom were pinned down behind a plinth. They screamed, loudly.

"Peeves!" boomed the Headmaster. "Cease this action."

The poltergeist merely cackled loudly.

"Nasty mast-y thinks he tells,

but Peevesie, weevesie knows he smells,

Smelly mast-y nasty past-y,

Don't believe-sie all he tells,

Cause he leads you straights to hells!"

The poltergeist sang his ditty as he fired-shot-threw whatever he could at the suits of armour. It was a wonder where he found so many loose stones.

"Peeves!" Professor McGonagall came briskly around the corner, "You're harming the students! Stop at once!"

There was a faint tingle in the air and with a last cackle Peeves shot off through the ceiling, presumably in search of more fun.

"Really Albus, what happened? I was marking papers when the portrait of Media Helgist burst into the painting in my office and said that there was a disturbance."

"I was merely wandering the castle, and came upon the scene mere moments before yourself, my dear. You handled it so beautiful I didn't think to interrupt," he complimented.

"Wandering the castle Albus?" McGonagall scolded. "Have you signed those papers yet?"

"Paper's?" he feigned confusion.

"Yes for Black's donations."

"Oh, surely they aren't necessary don't you think. I feel we should encourage him to donate the money towards the Order rather than the school don't you. After all the school has managed thus far."

"Albus, if you don't sign, those damn papers, I'll go over your head and take them to the Board of Governors myself!" McGonagall snapped. "We have a student who is still in St Mungo's after the latest incident with the brooms. And as you insist on pairing the Slytherins with the Gryffindors in potions it is a surprise that no-one has yet died in that class. I can only assume that, that is the reason for Severus' surly manner. Maybe the new desks will save his sanity. The Gods know I would have lost mine if you had done the same thing to me! To your office and sign now!" She all but frog-marched him up the corridor.

Pop. They were in a strange room, lined with rows of shelves and filled with rubbish. Dobby let go. Almost immediately, Harry, arched back in agony and collapsed, with a pained cry. Percival reached out and got his hand under Harry's head in time to lower it safely to the floor.

"Can you get …. get Sirius!" he gasped to the elf in shock, still supporting Harry's head as he groaned.

Two pops later and the dark haired man was kneeling beside him.

"What happened?" he demanded roughly.

"I don't know," for once the usually collected Percival looked like the fifteen year old he was. "We were investigating the Chamber with Snape. He had put a ward up to let us know if anyone came into the entryway. It activated so Harry had Dobby, pop us away. When we arrived here, Harry collapsed. I don't know what's wrong with him the only thing I can think of is that there cis another one of those..things nearby. Do you think there could be… one here?"

With a frown Sirius said, "Kreacher!"

"Master calls?"

"I want you to search this room. You are looking for something that feels like the locket. When you find it, place it in the same box….." he paused and looked to his Godson, who was still writhing on the ground. "Please."

With a nod the Elf moved off into the shelves. Sirius turned back to the boys to see Percival carding his shaking fingers through Harry's hair, head now resting on his leg, trying to get him to settle between the waves of pain.

"Sorry, I guess I panicked. I should be better than that," Percival said feeling a bit embarrassed. Harry crying out and collapsing had been so unexpected that he had panicked. What use was his training if he didn't use it.

"You called for help, that's the main thing, and," Sirius turned to where a horrified Dobby was still staring down at his Master, whimpering. "You didn't freeze up."

"Dobby," Percival called the Elf's attention to him. "You couldn't have known what would happen, so don't punish yourself, please. I know Harry would agree." There was an affirmative like grunt from his lap. "Now do you know what Kreacher is searching for?"

The floppy ears swung from side to side as Dobby shook his head.

"Feels….like…diary," Harry managed to get out.

"It feels like the diary?" Percival repeated. "Dobby do you understand? Search for something that feels like the diary that was given to Ginny Weasley. If you find it bring it here."

"Yes, Master Percival Sir," Dobby said solemnly and joined Kreacher in searching the shelves.

"Perhaps we should have Dobby pop Harry to the dorm, I hate seeing him like this," Percival said.

"Would you be able to tell just by the feel of it, if they found something though? I know I wouldn't. I mean I would be able tell if it had some to sort of nasty spells on it, but specifically the horcrux of Tom Riddle, no."

"Me either, though, we could have them find it, and then check with Harry later, or send it to …." he stopped as Harry's whole body convulsed.

"No! Need to stay….know soon."

"Shh….Harry, you have school tomorrow," Sirius clutched his hand. "I think Perce is right, we should ask….." Harry's back arched, his eyes rolled back in his head and he began to scream.

His body felt smooth, powerful and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold, stone… he was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly…..it was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colours…he was turning his head….at first glance the corridor was empty…but no….a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin dropping on to his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark…..

Harry put out his tongue….he tasted the man's scent in the air….he was alive but drowsy….sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor…..

Harry longed to bite the man….but he must master the impulse….he had more important work to do….

But the man was stirring…a silver Cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet: and Harry saw his vibrant, blurred outline towering above him, saw a wand withdrawn from a belt….he had no choice…..he reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood…..

The man was yelling in pain….then he fell silent…..he slumped backwards against the wall….blood was splattering on the floor….

His forehead hurt terribly….it was aching fit to burst…

"Harry! HARRY!"

He managed to prise his eyes open. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat; Dobby Kreacher, Sirius and Percival were all gathered around and leaning over him with pale concerned faces. He felt as though a white-hot potter was being applied to his forehead.

"Harry!" Sirius looked more concerned than Harry had seen anyone look in his life. He clutched at his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him….he rolled right over and vomited.

"Take it and put it in the box!" Sirius urged Kreacher, grabbing a shirt off a nearby shelf to wrap the vile feeling, strange looking crown in before shoving it back towards Kreacher. "For the love of the Gods, take it away."

"This is a much stronger reaction than the last!" Percival wasn't too proud to admit that he was panicking even more now. He tried not to listen to the parts of himself that were screaming out that he needed to shield Harry from harm. Harry was breathing rapidly, but had stopped twitching, now that the thing had been removed from the room. "Harry!"

"Ron's Dad," Harry panted, his chest heaving. "Mr Weasley has….been attacked…"

"What?" Sirius asked.

"Mr Weasley….He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere….."

"He's on guard duty tonight. We'll have to go through McGonagall or Snape. Kreacher, pop the boy's into their dorm straight onto Harry's bed, make sure you aren't seen. Then come back and take me back to Grimmauld. Dobby, go and alert McGonagall that there is a problem in the boy's dormitory. If she won't go to them, get Snape instead. Quickly now," Sirius ordered the Elves.

Percival and Harry appeared on Harry's bed, with the curtains drawn close around them, "You'll have to pretend to have had a nightmare," Percival whispered in the dark.

It was easy enough, Harry still vividly remembered the pain, and vision. It took only a few minutes of Harry's distressed screaming, for their Head of House to appear, in her tartan dressing robe, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose.

"What is it Potter? Where does in hurt?"

He had never been so pleased to see her; it was a member of the Order of the Phoenix that he needed now, one that would act promptly, not someone fussing over him, too much time had already been wasted.

"I'm not hurt. It's Ron's Dad," he said sitting up, not looking at the other boys who were also sitting up in their beds. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said Professor McGonagall, her dark eyebrows contracting.

"I don't know….." this was the tricky bit, McGonagall was used to detecting the lies of teenagers. "I was asleep and then I was there…."

"You mean you dreamed this?"

"No!" Harry protested; would she understand? How could he explain it? "I was having a dream at first about something completely different, and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it. Mr Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is…."

Professor McGonagall was gazing at him through her lopsided spectacles as though horrified at what she was seeing.

"I'm not lying and I'm not mad!" Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. "I tell you, I saw it happen!"

"I believe you, Potter," said Professor McGonagall tartly. "Put on your dressing gown - we're going to see the Headmaster." At least she was taking them seriously.

"Weasley, you ought to come too," she glanced briefly at the other boys, frowning slightly at Percival who was still sitting on Harry's bed. "Mr Graves, if you can fetch the other Weasley's, and bring them to the Headmaster's office it would be appreciated."

Percival nodded solemnly and proceeded her from the room. As Harry followed McGonagall, he felt the panic inside him building, it had been so long since the vision, they needed to hurry; he wanted to run, to yell for Dumbledore; Mr Weasley was bleeding as they walked along, so sedately and what if those fangs (there was a fleeting thought of 'my fangs', but he pushed it away), had been poisonous?

"Fizzing Whizzbee," said Professor McGonagall.

The gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, sprang to life and leapt aside; the wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that was moving continuously upwards like a spiral escalator. The three of them stepped on to the moving stairs; the wall closed behind them with a thud and they were moving upwards in tight circles until they reached the highly polished oak door with the brass knocker shaped like a griffin.

Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker. The door opened of its own accord and Professor McGonagall led Harry and Ron inside.

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall…and…ah…."

Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forwarding the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him. He was wearing a magnificently embroidered purple and gold dressing gown over a snowy white nightshirt, but seemed wide-awake, his penetrating light blues eyes fixed intently upon Professor McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a….well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonagall. "He says…."

Seeing the Headmaster's eyes flicker his way, Harry would have preferred to not say anything to the Headmaster, but this was the only way they had of helping Mr Weasley. "It wasn't a nightmare. It was….you asked Professor Snape to…."

Professor McGonagall looked around at Harry frowning slightly, then back to the Headmaster whose eyes were practically on fire with their twinkling.

"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the Headmaster about it."

"I was asleep," said Harry, even in his haste to re-tell the story he noticed that the Headmaster wasn't looking at him, but was examining his own interlocked fingers. "It wasn't an ordinary dream….it was real…I saw it happen." He took a deep breath, "Ron's dad,,,has been attacked by a giant snake."

He said them so honestly and urgently that the words seemed to reverberate in the air after he had said them. There was a pause in which Dumbledore leaned back and stared meditatively at the ceiling. Ron looked from Harry to Dumbledore, white-faced and shocked.

"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, still not looking at Harry.

"Well…I don't know," was the Headmaster aware of where they had been tonight, did he know? Is that why he was in Myrtle's bathroom? "Inside my head I suppose -"

"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. "I mean…can you remember - er - where you were positioned as you watched the attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the…victim or else looking down on the scene from above or…"

It was such a curious question that Harry gaped at Dumbledore; it was almost as if he knew…

"I was…in the position of the snake," he said. "I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, who was still whey-faced, asked in a new and sharper, nearly accusatory voice, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes," said Harry emphatically - why were they all so slow on the uptake, did they not realise how much a person bled when fangs that long pierced their side? And why could Dumbledore not do him the curtesy of looking at him? Was he trying to imply that Harry actually had something to do with the attack, apart from witnessing it.

Finally Dumbledore stood, the movement was so quick in the end that it made Harry jump, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling. "Everard?" he said sharply. "And you too Dilys!"

A sallow-faced wizard with a short black fringe and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.

"You were listening?" said Dumbledore.

"The wizard nodded; the witch said, "Naturally."

"The man has red hair and glasses," said Dumbledore. "Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people -"

Both nodded and moved sideways in their frames, but instead of emerging in neighbouring pictures (as usually happened at Hogwarts) neither reappeared. One frame now contained nothing but a backdrop of a dark curtain, the other a handsome leather armchair, that wouldn't have been out of place in the refreshed Grimmauld place.

"Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts' most celebrated Heads," said Dumbledore, now sweeping around Harry, Ron and Professor McGonagall to approach the magnificent sleeping bird on his perch beside the door. "Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits, they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere. Sit down all three of you. They may not be back for several minutes."

Harry sat down, watching Dumbledore over his shoulder. Dumbledore was now stroking Fawke's plumed golden head with one finger. The phoenix awoke immediately. He stretched his head high and observed Dumbledore through bright, dark eyes.

"We will need a warning," Dumbledore said very quietly to the bird.

There was a flash like fire and the phoenix was gone.

"Dumbledore!" Everard had reappeared in his portrait panting slightly.

"What news?" said Dumbledore at once.

"I yelled until someone came running," said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, "said I heard something downstairs - they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check - you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood. I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left-"

"Good," said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsive movement. "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive then -"

"And a moment later, the silver-ringleted witch reappeared in her picture, too; she sank, coughing into her armchair and said, "Yes, they've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore….they carried him past my portrait….he looks bad…."

"Phineus I need you to alert your Grandson and Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other…" he paused. "Never mind." With a wave of his hand the study door opened again. Fred, George and Ginny entered the room, followed by Percival. The three Weasley's all looking dishevelled and shocked still in their night things. Though Harry could see a shrunken trunk in each hand.

"Harry, Ron - what's going on?" asked Ginny, who looked frightened. "They said Dad was hurt-"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore, before Harry could speak, "He has been taken to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you to Sirius' house, which is more convenient to the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

"How are we going?" said Fred, looking shaken. "Floo?"

"No," said Dumbledore. "The Floo is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on the desk. "We are just waiting for Phineus Nigellus to report back….I want to be sure the coast is clear before sending you-"

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

"It is Fawkes' warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "Professor Umbridge knows you are out of your beds…. Minerva, go and head her off- tell her any story-"

Professor McGonagall was gone with a swish of tartan.

"Some idiot moved the portrait to the gallery. I had to move into Walburga's to get his attention, however he says he'll be delighted," complained a dull voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard called Phineus had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. "My great-great-grandson has always had an odd taste in house-guests."

"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to group of children gathered in front of him. And quickly before anyone else joins us."

They gathered around Dumbledore's desk.

"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three, then..one….two…"

It happened in the fraction of a second: in the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said 'three', Harry looked up at him - they were very close together - and Dumbeldore's clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry's face.

At once, Harry's scar burned white-hot, as though, the old wound had burst open again - and unbidden, unwanted, but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred so powerful he felt, for that instant he would like nothing better than to strike - to bite- sink his fangs into the man before him -

"….three."

Sitting in her usual chair at the head table awaiting breakfast, Delores was feeling more than a little pleased with herself. With any luck, by the end of breakfast the brat would be out of her hair and Cornelius would be grateful. Perhaps she would get a raise. She stretched out a jewelled hand, to grab the tongs so she could select a piece of toast.

Smiling smugly as she spread a thick layer of butter, yes any moment now. It was a little unusual she had to admit that the boy had not arrived yet, the brat was often quite early to breakfast. Though she had checked with the horrid little things that ran the kitchens, thing one and thing two had both assured her that no-one had eaten before she had arrived, and she had come straight to the Great Hall afterwards to ensure that she didn't missed the show. Perhaps the freak had slept in, after all she suspected he had been one of those out of bed after hours last night. Making a mental note to add that to his list of punishments, Delores grinned evilly as she looked out over the arriving students. Yes, it was going to be absolutely fabulous!

The flood of students entering the hall had diminished to a trickle and there was still no sign of the beastly boy. The plump blonde Longbottom squib was sitting in the Potter boy's usual spot at the Gryffindor table. She watched as the boy took a sip of his drink and promptly spat his pumpkin juice across the table, showering the opposing student, a muggleborn no less, in the sticky liquid. While she would usually find it quite amusing, Delores realised sourly that not only was Potter not there, but there was not a single red-head at the table either! That wretched woman had been lying last night!

Just as Delores smacked her hands against the table and pushed up, her breakfast spoilt a voice broke over her, "Something the matter, Madame Umbridge?"

She turned to see the plain face of the resident Potion's Master.

"I see we are missing several student's from the Gryffindor table," she bit out. "I will find out where they are and see that they are suitably punished."

"Hmm," the wretched man actually seemed amused. "As well meaning as I am sure your intentions are, unfortunately non-attendance at a meal is not a punishable offence. Though to put your mind at ease, I believe there was something in the order of a family emergency in the early hours of this morning, requiring them to leave the school."

"Still…. the Potter boy!"

"Ah, I believe he was to go with the family for Christmas and so the Headmaster gave permission for him to depart early also."

"The special treatment of the boy must stop!" the toad-faced woman stated forcefully. "It is only encouraging his delinquency."

"Indeed," Snape looked at her for a moment. "It seemed you were just leaving. Don't let me detain you." He turned towards the table.

With a huff, Umbridge waddled from the room, her day thoroughly ruined.


	16. Chapter 16

They all sped forward in a swirl of colours and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onwards…until Harry's feet hit the ground so hard that his knees buckled and if it wasn't for the strong arm around his waist he would have fallen, the kettle clattered to the ground and he stepped away from Percival.

They had arrived in the basement kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place. In the dim glow of the fire, Kreacher could be seen sending a plate of biscuits and a complete tea set flying to the table. Sirius was hurrying towards them, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in the clothes he had been wearing when Harry and Percival had last seen him.

Playing it up for the Weasleys he said, "What's going on?" He reached out a hand to help Ginny up from where she had fallen on the floor. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured…"

"Ask Harry," said Fred.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.

"It was…" Harry began; this was even worse than telling McGonagall. The twins and Ginny were staring at him, Ron was strangely silent. "I had a - a kind of- vision…"

And he told them all that he had seen, he would have altered his story to imply that he had been on the side-lines watching but Ron was there, looking at him with hard eyes. When Harry had finished Fred, George and Ginny continued to stare at him for a moment. Harry didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but after Dumbledore's tone, he fancied that there was something accusatory in their looks.

"Is Mum here?" Ginny asked turning to Sirius.

"She probably doesn't even know what happened yet," said Sirius. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect that Dumbledore is letting her know now."

"We've got to go to St Mungo's" said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course all in their pyjamas. "Sirius can you lend us cloaks or anything."

"It will only take me a minute to enlarge your trunks, but I can't let you go tearing off to St Mungo's."

"Course we can go to St Mungo's if we want," Fred interrupted, with a mulish expression. "He's our dad!"

Sirius' eyes softened, "I know, but we can't explain how you knew that Arthur was injured before the hospital had even informed his wife."

"What does that matter?" said George hotly.

"It matters," Sirius explained flatly, "because we do not wish to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of what is happening hundreds of miles away. Think about what the Ministry would do with that information."

Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry would do. Ron was still ashen-faced and silent.

"I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother. They won't let you in to St Mungo's before she has seen him anyway. All right?"

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny however took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug, he sank on to the chair next to Ginny. Percival looked over at Harry and nodded to the table. Harry blushed as they both sat down. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats opposite Ginny and Ron.

"That's right," said Sirius encouragingly. "Come on, let's all…let's all have a drink while we are waiting. I guess no one wants the tea." With a wave he sent it back over to the bench. "Accio Butterbeer."

He raised his wand as he spoke, and the bottles came flying towards them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, scattering the debris of Sirius's meal, and stopped neatly in front of them. They all drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of the crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.

Harry was only drinking to have something to do with his hands. His stomach was full of horrible hot, bubbling guilt. They would not be here if it was not for him, they would all still be asleep in their beds. There was a small part of his mind, that sounded an awful lot like Percival, that was telling him that he had raised the alarm which had ensured that Mr Weasley had been found. However, Dumbledore's questions had thrown him, as had the looks that Ron had been giving him. He knew there was no way he had actually attacked Ron's dad, after the events in the Room of Requirement, unless astral travel was a thing in the wizarding world. But Dumbledore had asked Snape about Harry's visions and Harry had been successfully blocking them, maybe if he hadn't been, he would have seen something sooner and Mr Weasley could have been warned instead of rescued.

'Don't be stupid' he told himself, trying to keep calm, though the hand on his Butterbeer bottle was shaking. 'Snape told you to keep practicing. But maybe Snape was wrong? And what had happened in Dumbledore's Office? Was that a sign that Riddle was now aware of the connection?' Suddenly there was a feeling of warmth on his arm. Harry glanced down to see that Percival had reached out and placed his hand on Harry's forearm, stilling the shake.

"Whatever you are thinking now stop it," he said fiercely, looking the younger boy dead in the eye. "Mr Weasley has been found because of your vision."

"What if there are others who haven't been?" Harry hissed back. "Besides I …I think he knows."

Nearly imperceptibly the black eyes widened, Percival stood and grabbed Harry by the shoulder and led him to the library.

In the kitchen, the redheads watched them leave.

"So, what is going on there?" Sirius asked.

Ron and the twins just shook their heads.

"Not sure," Ginny shrugged. "They were ok until two days ago…"

"Huh," Ron murmured. "Oh, that was the morning after…."

"The morning after what?" Sirius asked.

"Well the morning after Cho kissed Harry."

"Cho kissed Harry!" Fred choked on his butterbeer.

"Yeah, she hung around after we all left the rec room and pounced on him apparently. You should have seen him when he got back to the common room. It was hilarious."

"So, is Percival upset at Harry?"

Ron shrugged, "Not that I know."

Percival pushed Harry into one of the wing-backed chairs and sat in the other.

"So, tell me what is going on in that head of yours."

"I think he knows," Harry whispered, gazing at the fire.

"Who knows what?"

"Um, Snape came to see me when I was in the hospital wing. The Headmaster had asked if I had noticed any changes to my connection with Riddle, he seemed to be implying that I should be getting visions. I told Snape that I hadn't and that you have been teaching me Occlumency. He encouraged me to continue. He thought that if Riddle knew about it, he would use the connection somehow. I think he knows about it now. This….with Mr Weasley…seems to have triggered something. When we were leaving, I had the urge to strike out at Dumbledore."

"How did it compare to when you got upset at me or Neville? Could it just be that he's angry and you were feeling it too?"

Harry thought about the feeling and shook his head, "No, it ….feels different. This was anger specifically aimed at the Headmaster. I think he could see what I saw."

"We'll have to look at some techniques for shoring up your protection around the connection." They heard a surprised exclamation from the kitchen. "Come on, let's see what that is all about."

It seemed that a message had just been delivered by Fawkes, Sirius was just passing the parchment over to George, who un-folded it and read aloud: '_Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.'_

George looked around the table, noting that Harry and Percival had re-entered the room. "Still alive," he said slowly. "But that makes it sound…"

He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded to Harry, too, as though Mr Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Still pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it still might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George's hands and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, who had sat down and picked up his butterbeer bottle with a shaking hand.

The group settled in at the table to await news. At one point during the night Sirius made a half-hearted attempt to convince them all to go to bed, needless to say it failed miserably. They ended up sitting in silence watching the candle wicks burning slowly lower and lower into the liquid wax, speaking only to check the time, to wonder what was happening and to reassure each other that if it was bad news they would have been told straight away, for Mrs Weasley must long since have arrived at St Mungo's.

At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch, the door swung open and Mrs Weasley bustled into the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all turned to look at her, Fred, Ron and Harry half rising in their chairs, she gave a wan smile.

"He's going to be okay," she reassured them, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work."

"Breakfast," Sirius stated loudly over the relieved noises of the Weasleys gathered at the table. "Kreacher!"

With a pop the Elf appeared.

"Would you mind making bacon and eggs, tea and toast please?"

With a grunt Kreacher moved towards the stove. Harry and Percival moved to set the table, being sure to keep out of the way, as Ginny and Fred moved to hug their mother, having no doubt Ron and George would follow.

In the Headmaster's Tower a bearded man, sat contemplating the latest turn of events. Certainly, he wasn't sure what Umbridge had been planning, but her machinations had failed regardless. Watching her actions amused him, all the planning, lying and manipulation, all for naught. He smirked, she really was an amateur, it was no wonder really, she was less than half his age, maybe she would improve with time. No, there were very few in his league. The closest was locked away in a tower, never to be seen by the world again. A deep chuckle passed his lips. Yes, perhaps it was time to visit Nurmengard again. After the school year finished. Yes, then he could take a little holiday away, his pawns wouldn't get up to too much trouble over the few weeks of the summer holidays.

Tap, tap.

Stifling a groan, Dumbledore waved a hand to allow the girl into his office. He had been expecting her visit.

"Professor," she began, clearly panicked. "I woke up this morning and he's gone! I…I…"

Peering over his spectacles, he twinkled at her, "Miss Granger, I sent them away. It appears that Arthur was injured last night."

"Poor Mr Weasley….but, Harry's gone too, as is …."

"Yes," the Headmaster nodded his head amiably. "Yes, I sent young Harry with them, poor boy. I thought it best given the situation. Of course, it is best if I keep Mr Graves with him for the time being, so I can keep my eye on the situation. If we watch him closely we should be able to prevent him from leading Harry astray. A word here and there and he can be shown that the boy isn't infallible. A book or item in the right place and Harry will know that the boy cannot be trusted. Yes, after last night Harry should already be coming into an awareness of the risks."

"What happened last night, Professor?"

He could have laughed at how easy it was to coax the girl into asking the right questions, "It appears that the time has come at last. Harry himself remains mostly unaware, except on a subconscious level of course, but there is a connection which ties him to Voldemort. It has been there since the night that his parents died. Tonight, he witnessed the actions of Voldemort that resulted in Arthur Weasley being mortally injured. Who knows how that connection might be used in the future," he said solemnly.

Hermione gasped.

"Indeed. It is entirely possible that Voldemort could possess Harry through this connection and all unsuspecting he could be putting others at risk."

"Harry would never forgive himself if he got anyone else hurt," Hermione declared.

Dumbledore hummed his agreement, "What are your plans for the holidays, my dear?"

"Oh, my parents are taking me skiing." Hermione smiled.

"Such a shame."

Hermione looked at Dumbledore's frown and couldn't help but ask, "What's a shame, Professor?"

"Oh," Dumbledore shook his head as if, trying to settle his thoughts. "I had thought if you were available, you could keep an eye on Harry, for when Voldemort inevitably tries to possess him. I won't be able to attend Grimmauld place for more than a couple of brief visits myself, as I have a great many other duties to attend to at this time of the year. And it would put this old man's mind at rest to know that you were there monitoring the situation. You would be able to continue your efforts to inform Harry of Mr Graves duplicity as well. Though you might need to employ a subtler method."

"Is Percival really that bad Professor? I mean," Hermione hastened to add seeing Dumbledore's eyes glint like stones, "he carried Harry all the way to the hospital wing when he was sick. That doesn't seem like something that someone who was trying to harm him would do."

"Hermione," Dumbledore tutted, chiding the child. "This is where you are still so naïve. It's all an act, Mr Graves is manipulating Harry. He has done this one good deed and in turn he will ask a price that I am afraid Harry will be unable to pay. Perhaps I have misjudged you, I thought you were able to see these manipulations. Maybe I should choose someone else to keep a watch over Harry for me." He leant forwards and rested his chin on his fingertips, contemplating the girl in front of him solemnly.

"No, no Professor, I can tell when someone is being manipulated. Really I can."

"Perhaps then, it is because you aren't willing to do what needs to be done to look after Harry? Poor Harry who has lost so much, and desperately needs someone to guide him and be his friend."

"Harry got hurt the last time, I tried to help," Hermione said in a small voice.

And there is was, the opening, a small wandless compulsion to trust him was cast at the girl, it looked like he had done nothing more than tap his finger on the desk. "Hmmm, you did your best, and you were marginally successful; even if some of the outcomes were a bit of a surprise. It wasn't your fault that Harry was hurt. You were acting in his best interest, even if he doesn't know it yet."

He had to give the girl credit for her creativity in dealing with the situation, even if it did mean that he had to re-administer all of Harry's potions and obliviate Madame Pomfrey, again. If she had a little more experience, she might have been able to make Harry believe that Mr Graves had poisoned him, sadly that was a missed opportunity. He looked at her smiling face.

"Yes I,,,I'm sure you're right. I wasn't trying to hurt him, just to make sure that any potions Percival had given him were out of his system," She smiled as her confidence grew. "Um, Professor, do you think it would be possible for me to have…."

His face clouded over for a second before he affected his patented disappointed Grandfather mien, "After losing the last book? Do you have any idea of how precious the information it contained was? And now you expect me to just hand you another," he scolded. "No, you need to demonstrate your worthiness. Those books are not to be trifled with. They are not mere text books. They are repositories of ancient wisdom that only those of stout mind and heart can ever hope to master and are coveted as such throughout the wizarding world. I had thought that you appreciated and respected the information that was given to you. That you were growing in strength magically, and mentally and were ready for that next step. To discover I was mistaken was very disappointing Miss Granger."

The girl swallowed as she stared at her lap, face burning in shame.

"I…I guess I could owl my parents and see about cutting short our holiday?" she offered hesitantly.

"That would be appreciated," he smiled at her genially, dismissing her with a wave.

She certainly was a bright young thing. As soon as Albus had heard about her from Minerva he knew, it was as if Ariana had been reincarnated once more. His brilliant little sister. So quick and bright and funny. Always scurrying from place to place. In many ways she had been the glue that held their family together. In life she had been just as brilliant and bright as Albus himself. She would have followed exactly in his footsteps if it hadn't been for those wretched creatures. They had spoiled everything. Because of them his father was sent to Azkaban, his Mother no longer had any time to spend with her sons, as she was focussed on her daughters care, and Aberforth….Albus snorted. Aberforth just accepted that it was so.

Thinking of Arianna inevitably bought him back to the dark tower and the man now residing in it. His mother had finally passed on due to an unfortunate bout of Arianna's accidental magic leaving the two brothers to look after their sister. Oh, how he had raged at the time. His …_brother_ had said that he would stay and look after her, but Albus knew, oh yes Albus knew that he hadn't meant it. It had all been lies, so that Aberforth would look like the knight in shining armour and he the villain. How would it have looked for the Dumbledore family if the boy who had only just taken his OWLS pulled out of school to look after their sister and not the older brother! No, it couldn't be, and his denial of Gellert had broken the man's heart and mind. He had flown into a rage, which in turn had led to spell fire. Arianna, his brilliant little sister whose mind was like a light being passed through a kaleidoscope, so very fractured, wandered in drawn by the energy and flashes of light. Aberforth, the hero as always, had tried to stop her, but he was on the wrong side of the room and too late. Then in a flash of orange light she was gone. This girl though, this new brilliant child, she was going to be everything that Arianna never had the chance to be. He hoped he'd chosen better than the last time.

Remus continued to tromp through the countryside, trying to ignore the rain dripping down his face. The weather had taken a turn for the worse just as he left Soren's tribe and the rain was now nearly continuous. A patronus from Sirius had reached him a day ago, so he was aware of Arthur's injuries and that the children were now at Grimmauld place. Shrugging his bag further up his shoulder he kept walking. Soren had mentioned that there were a few members of Greyback's tribe in the nearby hills and he had been hit by the urge to try and contact them to see if he couldn't speak to them about the war.

The rain continued to fall as with fatigued muscles, his legs pushed him up to the crest of the hill. Why was he doing this anyway? He let out a huff, thinking longingly about the library at Grimmauld place with its warm fire and comfortable chairs. Sirius might even have the kettle boiled. He had promised Dumbledore though. The view down the other side of the hill was uninspiring, a miserable blackthorn filled landscape set against a dull flat, grey sky. He trudged on.

Suddenly his foot failed to find purchase on the mud slick ground, and Remus was sliding, down the hillside on his rump. Expelling a breathless expletive, he tried to push himself up, but was overcome by dizziness. He must have hit his head in the fall. Well he wasn't in any rush, perhaps he would just lie in the middle of the bramble hedge that had arrested his fall for a while. At some point, Remus must have passed into unconsciousness, because the next thing he remembered was blinking open his eyes to see a starry sky, the clouds having blown away sometime during the evening. Moving his cold, stiff and sore limbs was a pain, but he persisted, and gathered up his bag once more. His left ankle protested as he transferred his weight onto it, well, he wasn't going to get to far, but he could probably hobble a little way up the path that the hedge lined and find a more protected place to rest. A hollowed out space under the hedge was all the shelter that Remus could find so he passed the rest of the night curled up on himself, trying to keep warm.

It was another two days before he saw the first of Fenrir's tribe, a dirty looking man, on the horizon keeping watch over the landscape, his shadow a black relief against the setting sun. Remus continued moving on, driven by an unstoppable force. The following night, Remus saw a farm house in the distance, a twinkling light shining out of the window. Tomorrow, he would reach there tomorrow.

Stretching out the last of the kinks in his spine, Remus headed off with renewed determination. Unfortunately, in the light of day, it seemed that the dwelling was further away than he had guessed. The earliest he would reach it would be that evening, and with his injured ankle, he might not even make it by then.

As the sun was dipping, it seemed that his morning prediction had been right, the lights were twinkling in the window once more as he made his way through the gate at the bottom of the property. There was a faint smell of wood smoke in the air, tainted by some kind of meat, that must have been cooking on the spit and his stomach growled. It was nearly enough to make him burst in through the door, begging to be fed. However halfway across the yard, a strange premonition twisted in his gut, and he paused. Remus was a naturally cautious person, years of being exiled had taught him that. Knowing it was rude and feeling a bit like a 'peeping tom', he made his way over to the window, and chanced a look inside. As he had thought there was a pig roasting on the spit over the fire, but there was no-one in the kitchen. He hesitated, should he make his way around the house to look in another window or just knock at the door? Voices broke through his train of thought.

"And he'll be here soon?" a deep masculine voice asked.

"Yes, I would have expected him to be here already, but he was travelling on foot," a second voice replied.

"What does he look like?"

"Sandy blonde hair, the usual scars, green eyes. He's one of yours."

"So, what makes you think he's coming here? Fenrir isn't known for being all that welcoming to those that are trying to convince us to be wizards."

"Oh, the boy is a great believer in second chances, after all he has been given several himself."

"And you expect Fenrir to just let him come in and talk to those that are weak minded, and take them away?"

"Oh, no, my dear boy. I expect Fenrir to kill him," the voice said in an amused tone. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you did what needs to be done first though. It would eliminate the threat after all."

It was a pity that Remus couldn't see them, for some reason that second voice seemed so familiar to him, and the name of its owner danced at the edges of his memory. There was a pop and then a man walked into the room.

"Sofia!" he called. "Sofia, come serve dinner I'm ravenous."

"I'm coming Taren," a feminine voice replied.

Remus rolled away from the window to lean against the wall, unsure what to make of the conversation. Should he knock anyway? They might not have been talking about him. No, that was ridiculous, they had obviously been talking about him. What was worse, was that there was clearly a spy in the Order again! He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach, this was how it had started last time. Then he had lost his pack. It couldn't be allowed to happen again. His head fell back onto the wall with a soft thunk. He should head back, and warn Sirius.

Bang.

The next thing the blonde werewolf knew, he was face down on the ground and there was a heavy weight on his back.

"Think you could sneak up on us did ya? Well I was warned about the likes of you."

His arms were jerked roughly up behind his back and tied together. There was a tug on his arms, straining the sockets as he was hauled upright, then he was pushed roughly past the house. A dark building loomed, there was a clanking of chains as a door was rolled open, and then smell of hay assaulted his nose. Oh, excellent he was going to be kept in the barn, Remus thought in despair in the moment before his world went black.

After breakfast was eaten, and Harry had sat through the uncomfortableness that was Mrs Weasley thanking him for saving Arthur, most of those at Grimmauld place went to bed. Harry found that despite having talked to Percival he was still jittery, so he retired to the library. An hour later Sirius found him there.

"Did you want to talk about it?" the dark-haired man asked softly as he approached the boy lying on the rug.

Green eyes blinked slowly as Harry came back to himself. Ah he must have been meditating.

"Talk about it?"

"Whatever is keeping you from going up to bed, when I can see how tired you are."

"I…," Harry groaned. "I…when I saw the attack, I saw it like I was the snake. When I told the Headmaster about it, he made it seem like Riddle was possessing me, or that he would at any moment. Then when we were leaving Dumbledore's office, I had the urge to strike….to bite him. To sink my fangs into his skin."

"Like a snake?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Yes, just like I was still the snake," Harry shuddered.

"Stop that. You were not the snake," Sirius scolded.

"But….Ron was there in Dumbledore's office and he's been looking at me weird, ever since."

"I am sure Ron will come around, he will just be upset because of what has happened to his father," Sirius reassured. "We know you have the horcrux, and now there is a connection to his snake. I think that shows that perhaps the snake is another one, though I want to check with Addison first. It would be safest to assume that he knows about the link. You'll have to be extra vigilant with your Occlumency now, examine every thought, feeling or dream that you have and don't act on it unless you are absolutely sure that it is your own," Sirius said urgently.

"I will," Harry gave a painful looking half smile.

Sirius tipped his head and examined Harry thoughtfully, "You've already discussed this with Percival, haven't you?" Seeing the nod, he asked, "So, why haven't you headed up to bed?"

A hand roughly scrubbed across the pale face, what were the odds his Godfather would give him useful advice and not tease him? He took a deep breath, he was a Gryffindor so…"On Friday, I was one of the last to leave the Rec room. I have told you about the Rec room, haven't I?"

"Room on the third floor, where anyone can go to socialise, all houses welcome, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah," Sirius parroted.

"Yeah well, this girl Cho…"

"The Ravenclaw seeker, that you wanted to take to the Yule Ball last year?"

"Yeah, her. Well she was also there, and she was crying," Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Well I didn't know what to do."

"There's no shame in that Harry, most guys don't know what to do when faced with a member of the fairer sex in tears."

"Well, I felt bad leaving her there by herself, so I started to talk to her. She's still grieving Cedric."

"Perfectly understandable," Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, but then, and this is the weird part, she kissed me!" there was a slightly hysterical tone to his voice.

"Well, that's…..a bit…..awkward," Sirius frowned. "You haven't done anything to, you know, lead her on have you?"

"Not that I know of," Harry's voice squeaked.

"Still no reason to be avoiding Percival…..Oh."

"Oh…what?"

"You told Percival, didn't you?"

"Of…of course, it just didn't seem right that I shouldn't I mean….I know…. it's not like we're…. well I just felt that I should you know."

"Hmmm," Sirius agreed. "Did he not take it well?"

"I think he thought it was funny actually," Harry frowned. "But then…after I told him, we were just about to leave the common room and Ithinkhekissedme."

"Sorry? Did you say that you _think _he kissed you?" Sirius asked incredulously. "You don't know if he did or not?"

"Well my eyes were closed!" Harry protested.

"You didn't feel anything?"

"I thought I felt something on my lips," Harry raised his fingers to brush his bottom lip, eyes unfocussed.

Sirius snickered, "_Right,_ so Percival kissed you. I am still failing to see the problem here."

"But I don't know and what if he didn't? Or what if he did? He hasn't mentioned it again, what if I was so bad at it that he doesn't want to do it again? What if…."

Hands found his shoulders, "Harry stop!" Sirius commanded, causing the boy to still. "Now breath. Does it change anything if he kissed you? Do you like him any more or less than before?" The black head shock from side to side. "Right then, it is only as awkward as you make it. If you were freaking out about the kiss from Cho as much as you were just now, then he was probably trying to show you that he is ok with it. But he knows you both are only fifteen."

"He's sixteen now."

"It doesn't make any difference. You are both too young for anything apart from kissing and holding hands."

"You really think he's ok with it?" Harry asked unsurely.

"Come here," Sirius raised an arm, and Harry slotted underneath it, accepting the hug. "Absolutely, that boy would do anything for you. He was just trying to let you know he knows that you aren't interested in some random Ravenclaw."

Relaxing into the warmth of the hug, Harry sighed, "Maybe I could go up for a bit of a sleep."

"Off you go then, don't forget your Occlumency. I'll contact Addison and see when he is free. Seraphina arrives back tomor…oh actually it's today now, so we can head over there again, I am sure Percival will be keen to her."

"Can we see the Goblins again too? I kind of set up an account for Ron and I want it to be a surprise, but he needs to go in, so he can register his wand and get a key."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Sirius squeezed his Godson tighter. "Ok now, up to bed."

"Thanks Sirius," Harry hugged Sirius back before making his way up the stairs.

It was lunchtime before everyone was out of bed and everyone's mood was much improved. The Weasley children, made a joyous cacophony as they practically tumbled down the stairs into the kitchen, where a smiling Molly was making lunch. When Tonks and Mad-Eye turned up to escort them across London, they were greeted gleefully. Fred and George stated that they thought Mad-Eye's bowler hat which he was wearing at a jaunty angle to cover his magical eye was decidedly fetching. And a laughing Harry reassured him that Tonk's bubble-gum pink hair, wouldn't turn any heads on the Underground at all.

Tonks herself was interested in Harry's vision of the attack on Mr Weasley, something that Harry was not remotely interested in discussing.

"There isn't any _Seer_ blood in your family is there? she enquired curiously, as they stood at the door, waiting for the Weasleys to gather themselves.

"No," Harry said flatly, thinking of Professor Trelawney.

"No," said Tonks musingly, "no, I suppose it's not really prophecy you're doing is it? I mean, you're not seeing the future, you're seeing the present…it's odd, isn't it? Useful, though….."

Harry didn't answer as fortunately right at that moment, Fred and George came bounding into the entry way.

"You sure you won't come with us Harry?" asked Fred.

"You should know you're family by now," said George.

"I know," Harry smiled faintly. Then lent in close, "I have a little surprise to arrange for my best mate you see. Tomorrow or the day after I might need a distraction," he all but whispered, earning a curious look from Tonks.

"Right you are Harry," Fred said.

"It will only cost you…." George continued.

"A couple ideas for new products," Fred finished.

"We know you and Percival have been holding out on us," they both stood tall, and crossed their arms looking down on Harry in faked disapproval.

"Alright," Harry agreed good naturally, as Mrs Weasley bustled down the stairs followed by Ginny.

"Ronald!" she yelled up the stairway.

"Coming Mum," his voice came back drifting down the stairs. A minute later his footsteps could be heard pounding down the stairs and Moody emerged from the kitchen.

"Now Harry, are you sure you won't come? I don't like having you here by yourself," she looked at him worriedly.

"What am I Molly. chopped liver?' Sirius, stepped out of the parlour.

"Yeah, Mrs Weasley, I'm sure. Percival's here too and well, it would be a bit odd for him to go and see Mr Weasley at St Mungo's. I'll keep him company," Harry gave a reassuring smile.

"Alright than dear."

"Lead on, Moody," Tonks chirped and they all filed out.

"Are they gone then?" Percival asked sticking his head out of the parlour as the door closed.

"Yep, safely on their way," Harry nodded.

"Good, I don't think I could have coped with anymore of the surreptitious glances."

"Thank goodness," Harry sighed in relief. "I thought I might have been seeing things."

"No, whatever had Ron thinking last night, he must have told the twins about this morning."

"They weren't treating me any differently, really," Harry said consideringly.

"Maybe whatever he told them wasn't bad," Percival shrugged. "You'll only find out by talking to them."

"Well, I am glad to see you both up, as Healer Addison was available today. You have an appointment with him in an hour Harry."

"I wanted you to tell me about the ritual!" Harry whined.

Reaching out a hand Sirius ruffled the boys hair, "And I will, Addison has had it to look over. It needed to be modified, and he is checking that the changes should work. After he is happy, I'll also have Severus have a look at it."

Two sets of eyes turned to stare at him.

"Did you just call…..the greasy bat of the dungeon Severus?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Thank you for that assessment Mr Potter," the base voice that regularly sent a shiver of terror down student's spines sounded from behind him, and Harry cringed. Sirius blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry Professor," Harry apologised.

The slight quirk of one side of his mouth, reassured Harry that his professor was not actually upset. "Hmmm. We need to talk Potter," he said without further fuss.

They moved into kitchen and Sirius set about making tea.

"Dumbledore, intimated that you had seen what happened to Mr Weasley," it was half statement, half question.

"Yes, from the position of the snake, and….." Harry swallowed harshly, before choking out, "I think _he_ knows."

Obsidian eyes studied him.

"The Headmaster has requested that I teach you Occlumency. Am I right in assuming that you have not told him about the lessons that you have received from Mr Graves?" The boys nodded in unison. "I am a master of the art. As we discussed, I will check your barriers when you return to the school, but for now at least we can tell the Headmaster that we have made arrangements. I will check yours at the same time Mr Graves," he finished sternly.

"Yes Sir," the two boys echoed.

Suddenly Snape hissed and bent over his arm.

A hand reached out towards him, "Are you okay Sir?"

He looked into green eyes that were wide in concern, "Yes Mr Potter. I am being called." Slowly he straightened, pulling his shoulders back and lifting his head. A firm determination made his eyes glitter, like jewels.

"Good luck Professor!" Percival said as the man disappeared into the fire place.

"We need to check on my Occlumency," Harry worriedly bit his lip. "We can't have Riddle seeing that!"

"We will I promise, as soon as we get back," Percival threw an arm around Harry's shoulders and gave him a hug.

"Well Mr Potter, given everything that has happened, you are doing remarkable well," Addison Baldric, smiled at the small teen. "Yes indeed. Liver and kidneys are now functioning well. You've managed to grow a few inches, gained a few pounds and put on some muscle. You'll need to keep going with the potion for bone strengthening, and keep a supply of stomach soothing potions, around for times of stress. I rather feel that your response to any sort of stress will be to stop eating, and if it gets out of hand, we will lose all the gains we have made. Lastly keep up with the exercise." He smiled gently at the boy in front of him. "Now I have bought my equipment with me, so I'll take a sample of your blood, to check the levels of toxicity and to quickly look for the presence of any potions. Not that I am expecting to find any after your little trip to the hospital wing."

Harry held out his arm, to have a vein opened and his blood collected in a vial.

"Right sit there, Mr Potter. While I put this on, and then we can have a chat about the ritual."

Harry nodded agreeably, as Percival moved to join him on the couch, and Sirius and Seraphina, made their way over from where they had been preparing tea.

"Right," Healer Addison, sat down. "The ritual seems good, though I would also like another set of eyes to have a look over it as a further check. Though there are a couple of limitations. The first being, we must have gathered all, of the receptacles, which in turn means that we must find them. Currently we know the location of two besides Harry…"

"Three…we think," Sirius said hesitantly, glancing at his Godson.

"Three?"

"Yes. The reason the boys are away from school so soon, is that Harry had a vision, where he saw Mr Weasley being attacked. He saw it through the eyes of the snake. A snake that is the known familiar of Tom Riddle."

"Hmmm," Addison scratched his head. "Yes, it seems likely, though a second living horcrux, is concerning. Perhaps Harry being a horcrux wasn't an accident after all?" he mused. "As I was saying, all the objects must be gathered together, then the ritual performed, and they will be cleansed. The second restriction is that Riddle must be in human form at the time. As you are essentially asking judgment on his soul, all parts of his soul will be judged and will pass on. The spell cannot detect things that don't have a physical form, so asking judgement too soon, will leave a piece that could then be revived later."

"Well that doesn't matter does it?" Harry asked. "After all he's got a body now."

"Yes, we just need to make sure that no one kills him before we are ready with the ritual."

"Either Imbolc or Beltane would be the best times to perform it."

Harry looked confused.

"Imbolc marks the beginning of Spring and new growth. Whereas Beltane is at the start of Summer and is a time of requesting protection from the Gods," Percival supplied.

"I haven't had any luck finding any of the other items. Hopefully Mooney will return soon, and we might be able to find something by Beltane, Imbolc is just too soon. Though that will be just before the boy's exams."

"Stuff the exams Sirius, if we can get rid of Riddle, I'll beg the Minister himself to be allowed to do them over the summer," Harry stated hotly.

"I am sure that it won't come to that," Seraphina said calmly.

"The hardest part might be trying to get Riddle there, but I'll discuss that with Severus later."

Harry starred at him hard, "You did it again?"

"Did I?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, with a smirk. "Does it matter who performs the ritual?"

"I shouldn't think so," Addison said.

"Good, well then there is no need for Harry to be there at all. So he can take them as normal, instead of looking for a way to delay them," Sirius smirked.

"But Sirius….I wasn't… and I have to be…."

"No Harry, just because Dumbledore has made you feel responsible for eliminating Riddle doesn't mean that he is right. If I can manage it at all, you will not have to go near that man again."

A soft smile crept of Harry's face and suddenly he was off his chair and had launched himself at his Godfather, "Thank you! Thank you Thank you."

Sirius wrapped his arms around the boy and held him tight, "It is the least I could do for you, to make up for my past mistakes Harry. This war should not be yours, it shouldn't even be mine."

"Thank you," Harry said one last time as he emerged from Sirius' arms and moved back to sit next to a grinning Percival. "So, what next then?" Harry asked.

He was answered by a small 'ping'.

"That's just your results Harry," the healer said, standing up. "Interesting," he glanced over a piece of parchment. "Well the levels of Venom and tears are still in balance though they have decreased ever so slightly. I'll need to do another test to confirm, but once a year should be enough for now. What is interesting is that there are some free potions particles present in your blood. They haven't been able bind to anything and so are inert and will be processed by your liver and expelled from your body over time. But that they are there means that someone has given you potions since your incident the other week. In fact, I would think that they have been given to you in the last couple of days, due to the amounts present."

"I've had the potions you've been giving me, every day," Harry said in confusion.

"Yes, but those potions are like food Harry. They enter the stomach and are broken down the same way as food is, so they wouldn't be detected by this method. These are potions designed to enter your blood stream, they could have been absorbed through your skin, eaten or drunk, or in some cases they can be made into a gas that is inhaled, though that is quite rare." The man sighed, "It will take a bit more investigation to figure out what they are. May I take the blood sample back with me, under the same oath as last time?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Be assured there is no need to worry, as the presence of the basilisk venom is interfering with their actions, so you should remain unaffected. Still, be careful and if you notice anything odd, let me know immediately. Percival, I want you to keep an eye on him as well for any behavioural changes, that he might not notice. I have a cleansing potion that does not include Elderberry that I will send to Sirius and if we continue to get these results we might have to give you a regular dose of it."

"Ok," Harry agreed. "Thank you for coming to see me at such short notice."

"It is never a problem Harry," Addison smiled, and disappeared into the green flames of the floo.

Harry was sitting in the winged back chair in front of the parlour fire when the Weasleys returned from the hospital. A book was open on the lap table beside him and he had a piece of parchment spilling over the front of the small table.

"Have you started your homework already?" Ron asked as he entered the room.

Taking care not to disturb his table Harry looked up with a small smile. "Yeah, figured I'd get it out of the way, then I can enjoy the holidays. How's your dad?" Harry asked as Ron sat down.

With a shake of his head and a wry grin Ron replied, "The man's ridiculous, I swear. They are having difficulty getting his wounds to heal so he convinced some healer to try this muggle method, called stitches. Quite frankly it was horrifying."

"Really," Harry asked with ascending eyebrows. "It can be a bit ghastly if you have lots but shouldn't be that bad."

"Well the healer wasn't muggle born, so I'm not sure that they did it right. Hey, did you know Neville's parents are in St Mungo's?"

"Moody ….well I suppose Barty Crouch Junior told me last year, it's a bit weird now that I think about it, as he was one of the ones responsible for it. Given Nev hadn't talked about them, I figured he didn't want everyone to know, so I never said."

Ron nodded, "We met them." Then he let out a snort. "We met Lockhart too. He's still in St Mungo's, just learnt to sign his name apparently. He's very proud."

"Really, well I guess he would be," Harry grinned.

"Harry…"

Harry swallowed, this was it. This was where Ron told him what had been bothering him, and that he didn't want to be friends with someone who could be possessed by Riddle.

"Yeah Ron."

"I've been thinking about what Dumbledore said."

Harry swallowed, "Yeah."

"Well, I think in some ways he is right. Riddle could possess you via the link, couldn't he?"

"Yeah Ron he could."

"But this, with the snake, that was you watching, you only saw what was going on, right?"

"That's right Ron," Harry replied softly.

"Well, I think we need to talk to Ginny about what it feels like to be possessed, so that we have a bit of an idea. Fred, George and me, we've already decided to keep an eye on you. We didn't want to bring Ginny into it because…well you know."

The racing in Harry's heart slowed a little, "Yeah I know."

"I really think that Dumbledore was trying to make me think that you'd been possessed. I don't know why he'd do that, but I think we should keep an eye on him as well."

"Yeah, he hasn't really been that great in some of the decisions he's made regarding me over the years," Harry agreed.

"I think there is something very wrong with him."

"I've thought that for a while."

"Well I guess we'll just take down one Dark Lord at a time then. You going to be a while?"

"Yeah, I might as well keep going now that I've started."

"I'll join you in a bit," Ron stood and made his way out the door.

That night Harry sat on his bed with Percival opposite him.

"First I want you to show me what you have done. Open your eyes." Dark lashes lifted. "Legilimens."

He was drawn immediately into a realistic vision. Harry was seated on his broom opposite him and they were both midair.

"It's ok," Harry's soft voice reassured. "Because you were invited, you have a broom. Anyone else would automatically fall."

"Wow." Now that he looked around Percival was impressed. He could feel the air blowing against his face, cooling his skin as the sun shining above was a contrasting warmth. "Shall we go down?" he asked.

"If you want," Harry shrugged. The paired descended and dismounted onto a small grassy hillock, which had a path leading round it.

"What's on the other side?" Percival asked.

"Greener grass," Harry grinned.

"Tell me, you did not set your mindscape up so that you could make a pun about it?"

"No! Why would I have ever assumed anyone else would ever come here?"

"Fair enough. So where are your memories?"

"You're the expert, find them," Harry challenged.

"I'm not a master, merely someone who has used the technique for a while."

"Still find them."

Percival looked around, there did not seem to be anywhere that Harry's memories could be hidden. He stamped his feet, and the ground seemed solid under his feet, following the path around, literally only led to the other side, where there was an equally grassy hill in the distance. The only structure was a solid wall, which he could walk around in a matter of moments. He placed his hand on it.

"Not there," Harry said.

"No," Percival looked up removing his hand, from the malevolent feeling structure. "I can feel what this is." The ground at his feet was clear, though the grass had died. "Is it spreading?" He kicked at it with his toe.

Harry shook his head, not yet, but I can feel that it is angrier then before. The foundations go down ten feet. When it is not confined, there is a black tar like substance that oozes through the soil. I took a border of six additional feet around it as well."

"But?" Percival looked around the structure.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "I'm not really sure how that happens. If you walk around without inspecting every brick in the wall, bits of it just seem to skip. But if you ae carefully inspecting every piece of the wall, then you see it all and it takes a lot longer to go round."

"How very curious."

"Any ideas yet?"

"No, and that is a very good thing. So, this is the structure we need to reinforce."

"When I started last night, the wall was pretty cracked. He definitely knows. I have been replacing all the bricks and mortar. The inside is now lined with a smooth sheet of titanium. The problem is the base and the roof. I can't seal the bottom. This," he scuffed his foot on the ground. "As best as I can figure out is actually my brain, so physically, his actual Horcrux must be in my brain. Which means until that ritual, I can't remove it. Then I know nothing about how to make the roof strong, I have lots of cross beams, and another sheet of titanium, and then the tiles but I don't know what else."

"Harry," Percival placed his hands on the shorter boy's shoulders. "You are amazing. It took me years to figure out how to do anything remotely like this. "

"You taught me!" Harry protested.

"The only thing I taught you was how to meditate, and that you needed some way to hide your memories, the rest is all you. I actually think that you have done all you can do. I have no doubt that he will dig under that wall, eventually. We just need to hope that you figure it out before anything happens."

"What if I built in a warning system."

"How on earth would you do that?"

"I don't know. Pressure sensors in the soil around the base and spreading out in all directions, or maybe movement sensors. That way, if anything moves below, and he will have to come up here to access my memories and thoughts, I'll get a warning."

A hand slipped behind his neck, tipping his head back until he could look Percival in the eyes. They were so soft, like chocolate coloured velvet.

"You are amazing," Percival said, in a rough voice. He lowered his head slowly, keeping eye contact until the last moment. As his eyes closed Harry, felt the warm roughness of Percival's lips against his, so much firmer than the last time. The pressure and warmth disappeared, and Harry allowed his eyelids to flutter open, wondering when exactly his heart had started hammering in his chest.

"I…"

"When we go back, I want us to be together," Percival stated firmly. "I want to be able to hold your hand as we walk around school and throw my arm around you in the common room. If that is what you want Harry?"

"Y..yes…please," Harry stuttered.

"Good I was worried when you didn't say anything the next day, that you had changed your mind about us. I know we said we wouldn't define what it was but…"

Standing on his toes, Harry snaked a hand round Percival's neck and pulled him down into another chaste kiss. "I want it too," he assured.

They spent a moment grinning at each other, before Percival said, "We had best get back to the real world I suppose."

"Yeah," Harry continued to grin.

"Come on you," slowly Percival faded out, followed a moment later by Harry.

The minute he returned to himself, Percival's thoughts were a whirl, what had he done? He was bloody too old for the boy, it wasn't right! _'Stop it'_ hissed the dusty voice that he hadn't heard in weeks. _'You are here for this, you are sixteen, and you are his!' _Taking a deep breath Percival centred himself, clearly, he needed to check his Occlumency again tonight.

Harry was staring at him in concern, "Percival?"

"Sorry Harry."

"Do you regret it?" Harry's face fell, and he hunch in on himself.

"No Harry that's not it." He sighed. "When I returned to my body I…well I just remember how old I used to be and…well fifteen to forty is a big age difference and it…..doesn't feel right."

"But you're not really forty at all, you are really, really sixteen, and sixteen to fifteen is not very much at all."

"I know. Death was just reminding me. My old memories are slowly fading away, just every once in a while…" he sighed again. "I still mean it and I still want to be with you."

"Alright," Harry seemed reassured.

"Come on we had best get to sleep."

They snuggled up together and Harry raised his hand, placing it on the tattoo of the Deathly hallows.

"Psst Ron," Harry hissed.

"'Arry?" Ron groaned groggily.

"Get up mate. We've got places to be. As soon as your mum is on her way to St Mungo's, or before if we can manage it, we're out of here."

"We can't just leave!"

"We'll be back in about an hour, I promise and we aren't going to break the law or anything. If it makes you feel better, we can take the twins with us," Harry offered.

"Why would taking the twins with us make me feel better?" Asked a disbelieving Ron. "Oh, and thank Percival for showing me that locking spell, they haven't figure out a way around it yet."

"They're adults," Harry shrugged, "but I see you point. Alright, what about Seraphina?"

"Yeah ok."

"I'll get Sirius to ask her."

"Sirius knows what's going on?"

"Of course, I wouldn't just go out without him knowing what I'm up to."

"Why can't he come then?"

"Because he needs to be here in case something happens with The Order."

Harry dashed out of Ron's room and down the stairs, before the red-head could ask him anymore questions.

"Sirius!"

"Yes Harry," Sirius stuck his head out of the kitchen door.

Waving his arms in a circular motion, Harry indicate that he required his Godfather's presence. The silver eyed man, glanced back over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a minute Molly," he said as he left the room fully. "What is it Harry?"

"Ron wants an adult to come with us. Can you message Seraphina?"

"Sure."

Sirius quickly sent the message and it ws only a couple of minutes before Seraphina replied, that she had made the appointment and they had permission to flow directly into the office.

A brief signal passed between the conspirators, Mrs Weasley had yet to return to the hospital. It seemed she wanted to provide Arthur with enough food for his stay as she seemed to be cooking enough food to fed all the children who attended Hogwarts.

"Mum!" George screamed. "Something has happened to Gred! Mum!"

"Not Now, Fred!" Mrs Weasley chided. "I'm nearly ready to go and see your father."

"But Mum, something's really wrong!"

"Bring him down here then!"

"I don't want to risk moving him!" was the panicked reply.

"Those ridiculous boys, I don't have time for this," Molly muttered as she climbed the stairs.

"Argh," her startled yell echoed through the house.

"Right, that's our sign," Harry grabbed, Ron and Percival by the hands and dragged them into the kitchen to the floor. "You first Percival. Ron the floo address is Gringotts Striknott's office."

"But Harry….Fred!" Ron looked worriedly at the door.

"No time, in you go," Harry pushed his friend into the recently vacated fireplace.

"But…"

"Gringotts Striknott's office," Harry said as he threw a pinch of flop powder in with Ron.

He stopped and listened to the noises from upstairs, it certainly seemed that Mrs Weasley was in fine form. With a grin he took another pinch of floo powder and as he thought that he really owed Fred and George something big for this one, he let it fall to his feet.

When he stepped out of the floo, Percival and Ron were already seated in front of Striknott's desk.

"Sorry Ron, but Fred is fine. He just took one of their test products for their snackboxes, it makes your fingers fall off."

Ron's eyes went very large and round.

"It's ok they've already created the paste that re-attaches them," Harry reassured. "And he was only going to take a little bit."

"But…..Mum," Ron gasped.

"We worked it out with Snape before hand he has the cure."

With a deep breath, Ron settled himself, and looked around, "So why are we here?"

The grin that broke out over Harry's face was a sight to see, he bounced on his toes in excitment.

"Mr Potter, perhaps if you sat down?" the Goblin sitting behind the desk spoke for the first time since the boys entered his office.

"Isn't Seraphina coming?"

"She stopped by, but had to visit with her own account manager briefly."

Nodding, and still smiling broadly, Harry sat down, and looked at his friend.

"Harry, I'm getting worried now."

"You remember second year right?"

"But hard not to, Harry."

"Well, you remember all the detentions I have had with Snape this year?" Harry tried to remember if Ron had been there for any of the conversations about harvesting the basilisk, he didn't think he had been.

"Yeah, I don't know what you did to piss him off this year. Though he hasn't seemed so bad recently."

"Well, we kind of struck a deal with him," Harry said bluntly.

"What could he possibly have wanted."

"Basilisk parts."

Ron gaped.

"All those detentions were us harvesting the remains of the basilisk. The first auction was a couple of weeks ago now."

"But what does that have to do with me?" Ron couldn't find a connection.

"Well, for his help harvesting the ingredients, arranging the sale and obtaining a spell to organise the Black family library, I gave Snape a portion of the profits." Ron nodded, Harry was happy to see that he didn't appear jealous.

"I suppose that whoever ran the auction got a percentage as well," he mused.

"Yes. Percival helped with the harvesting so he already got some. Ron…. you were with me that whole time, you stood by me when no-one else did…."

"I haven't always," Ron said, looking at his lap ears tipped with red. "Last year…. I know we made up Harry, but I truly am sorry. I knew that you didn't want that attention, I knew that you would never have put your name. I was so jealous, and scared for you all at once, and I didn't know what to do and I took it out on your. I am sorry."

Eyes burning with tears, Harry leaned sideways and drew his friend into sideways hug.

"Thank you," he whispered and had to swallow around the lump in his throat several times before he could continue. " When Hermione was injured, you came with me to the forest, an then when Ginny was taken you were with me the whole way, so I decided that you should get a portion to." That large grin snapped back on to his face.

"What?" Ron whispered. "No Harry, you fought that thing, it's yours."

"It's too late, it is done Ron. What's required now Striknott?" Harry looked up to the Goblin.

"Well," he withdrew a crystal ball from his desk drawer. "First we need a sample of your magic on file, this way no one else can access your vault." They talked Ron through how to push his magic into the globe. "Next we need to register your wand." Reluctantly Ron handed his wand to Striknott to examine. "Then we need to discuss who you would like as your account manager?"

"I ….an account manager?"

"Yes Mr Weasley, there has not been a basilisk harvested in nearly a hundred years before the auction we just held and the parts are most certainly desired on a global level…."

"But you need to have … ten thousand galleons at least, to need a …." Ron was looking wild eyed.

"I can tell you the amount being transferred if you do not mind these other two gentlemen being aware, Mr Weasley?"

"Yes please," Ron squeaked.

"Your proceeds from the first sale, which will be the smallest of the auctions was forty two thousand five hundred Galleons."

There was a thump as Ron fell off his chair and onto the floor in a dead faint.

"Um….." Harry starred at his friend lying on the floor.

"Foolish wizards always so fragile," Striknott grinned.

"To be fair Striknott, I don't think the Weasleys have ever had even forty two Galleons all together at one time."

"Hmm, you could be right. If we train this one well, he might just make something of himself. I do have high hopes for his elder brother."

"He is not a dog!"

Striknott showed all his teeth, "Well Percival did you want to get him up so that we can continue with this meeting? Feel free to drew your wand to do so."

"Reinnervate."

"I had a dream Harry that, a Goblin Master Accountant said that I needed an account manager."

"Yup," Harry smiled.

"How do you choose? We barely have enough money to keep a vault open!"

"Maybe you could talk to Bill?" Harry suggested.

"Um, Striknott, mould you be available to be my account manager?" Ron asked.

"Only until the third auction, then Mr Potter's accounts will reach a level, where I must dedicate the entirety of my time to them. By then you will probably have received in the order of one hundred and twenty thousand Galleons and have reached the point where you will qualify for the services of a senior account manager. This is actually ideal, as they will be encouraged to give you the best advice possible in order to grow your account, once it has grown enough, they can apply to be promoted master accountant."

With a solemn nod Ron, thought for a moment, before he spoke again, "I think I would like to do that then. If you don't mind the extra work. When are the next auctions?"

"Not until May and then again in the following January."

"That will give me time to talk to Bill, and learn something about banking and investing. Thank you for your advice," he finished formally.

"So the last thing that is left is this," Striknott, stuck his hand into his desk drawer one more time and pulled out a small brass key.

"Mum, will take it from me!" Ron whispered, remembering the conversation at the start of the summer.

"The twins have their own key, and your mum hasn't found out about it yet. Maybe they can tell you how they have managed it?" Harry suggested. "Or maybe you could get a chain like I keep mine on?"

"You don't have your key, Mum has it," Ron said.

Percival snorted, "As i I was going to leave that alone. Harry spoke to Striknott and had that key cancelled, and a new one sent."

"I've never seen it!"

"No I keep it on a chain around my neck that I never take off."

"But….oh, there is a spell on it isn't there."

"Yeah. And the chain is also spelled to only be able to be removed my me."

"You could also do what your brothers have done," Striknott interrupted.

"How do you know, what they have done?" Ron asked curiously.

"Well, their business was started up with a donation from one of my major clients so…I am essentially their account manager too. Though because of his investment in their business I will be able to maintain that account even after Mr Potter's accounts grow."

Ron's head whipped round to stare at Harry, who looked uncomfortable.

"I…ah….I gave them the winnings from the tri wizard tournament, I didn't feel right keeping it. Not after what happened."

Shaking his head, Ron turned back to the Goblin, "So what have the twins done?"

"They purchased a money pouch. It has an undetectable pocket on the side, which is spelled to hold your key. A drop of blood on the key and the pocket, will mean that if the key is lost or stolen it will automatically be returned to the pouch and the pouch will return to you. The pouch also has access directly into your vault."

"Yes please…."

"Ron…" Harry groaned. "You need to ask how much something costs before agreeing to it."

"Oh," Ron blushed. "Sorry how much is it?"

"5 Galleons for the pouch to be made and tied to your blood then five knots a month upkeep fee."

"Then, yes please that would be ideal. Thank you."

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter!" Striknott called out.

"Nearly done gentlemen?" Seraphina asked as she swept into the room.

"Nearly, just sorting out money pouches. Seraphina Picquery, this is Ronald Weasley, my best friend, Ron this is Seraphina Picquery, ex-President of MACUSA, my magical guardian and more importantly Percival's Godmother"

Ron looked a bit star struck as he gazed at the elegant woman. "Hello," he finally managed to say.

"Hello Mr Weasley."

"Please call me Ron."

"Then you shall call me Aunt Sera like Harry does. Ah here is your pouch," she glanced up in time to see Striknott, place a red velvet pouch onto the table."

"Speaking into the pouch will call the correct number of Galleons to you. Remember money is a privilege young man."

"Yes Sir," Ron agreed. He seemed to be standing taller as he stood so that they could make their way out of the bank.

"Now, let's get you lads fed and then you can floo back from the Leaky Cauldron."


	17. Chapter 17

It had been a strange day, the weather was unseasonably warm, the sun had been out all day. Mrs number 10 had smiled as she had taken the bins to the curb and the milkman had left a tub of cream with the milk that morning. And Vernon…..well Vernon had been ….grumpy. Really he was beyond grumpy and had progressed to angry and aggressive. He hadn't liked the muesli for breakfast and turned his nose up at the fruit. Refused the offer of poached eggs on toast and turned down a fruit and vegetable smoothie (Petunia had made one for herself using the recipe out of one of her magazines and found it quite delicious). Only a full English fry up would satisfy him, when she had pointed out that the Doctor had said he wasn't to have those things anymore, he had raised his arm and she honestly thought that he would have struck her if it weren't for the shriek of a bird that made him look out the window and see Mr Number 2 looking into the house through the open window.

To be honest she had been glad when he had taken his bad-tempered self out of the house and off to work, without any breakfast at all. It was time to admit to herself that he was not the man that she had married any longer. Or perhaps she was not that girl any more. Everyone had always loved Lily, and Petunia had just wanted someone to love her. To see her, when all the others were looking at Lily. Oh, she knew that their parents had loved her too, but when she was younger it seemed that any time that Lily was home all they could do was fuss over her. It had taken her own boy going off to boarding school for her to realise that they felt so excluded from what Lily had been involved in during the year that they had spent the summers trying to catch up. Whereas she had been home, going to the local comprehensive, so they knew what she had been doing. They had taken the journey with her. They knew and had been involved in all her challenges and triumphs. When Lily was dropped off at that train station that was the last they saw of her for nearly ten months, and the only communication was via the school owls. Petunia felt somewhat guilty now, because she had more often than not stolen those letters and torn them up. It was only now that she had a mother's perspective that she understood.

Vernon had been the first man to see her and she had grabbed hold of him desperately. They had married in a rush, despite her parent's protests It had been a relief to find someone so normal and not to have to worry about waking up with purple hair, or finding frog-spawn soap in the bathroom. Then Dudley had come along, and they could not have been happier. If Vernon, got angry when the baby cried in the night, well, he worked hard all day and needed his sleep. Dudley had been a good baby and settled easily, sleeping through the nights very early, unlike some of the stories she had heard, so it wasn't much of a bother.

Then when Harry had been dropped off on the doorstep, without a scrap of clothing, their lives had changed. It had been a struggle. They had barely been making it by with one child, suddenly they had two. Harry, unsurprisingly now she thought about it, had not been an easy baby. At fifteen months he was toddling everywhere, calling out for his parents and screaming when couldn't find them anywhere. Vernon's anger grew, he threw the boy into the cupboard one night when he wouldn't calm, and the space muffled the sound allowing them to sleep. The darkness seemed to help the boy settle, and the crying fits grew less. She had suggested that they move him when he turned eighteen months, but Vernon was adamant that he stay in the cupboard. In her confused mix of grief and jealousy she hadn't argued.

It has all been downhill from there. Every set back that they suffered was blamed on the boy. Vernon was determined that he should earn his way. Though she had protested that he was too young, at three he had started with the chores. In some ways she gave him more chores just to keep him out of Vernon's sight. The more that Vernon saw the boy, the angrier he seemed to be. She had blamed Harry aggravating him for her fear of Vernon. She told herself that if Harry hadn't set him off Vernon would not have been angry. Vernon would cuff the boy and send him to his cupboard, taking a vindictive delight in not letting the boy eat. Now though, now there was no small boy at home to take the brunt of the anger. Now she was alone with her husband. Now she had stood up to him. Now Harry could not be blamed.

The sad thing was there wasn't anything she could do. Dudley had heard his father yelling at her over a late meal, when he had called last week, and asked if everything was ok. It had made her cry. Dudley had wanted to come straight home. She wondered how long it would be before Vernon went further than the bluster. Now that he had raised his hand she knew it was only a matter of time. It was the same way it had started with Harry. The worst of it was that she could not do a thing about it. She and Vernon had always had a shared bank account and as a house wife she had no income of her own. It had been years since she had last worked. Vernon had always insisted that earning the money was his job as the man of the house. The only friend she had to speak of was Veronica who was always overseas. She had fallen out with most of her school friends over Vernon. So, she had nowhere to go, no money to support herself until she got a job and no skills to speak of.

There was the squeaky sound of the flap on the door swinging as the postman pushed a letter through, it made her wonder if there would be another letter from her nephew. She felt ill from the gut turning guilt. Harry was still reaching out to her with fortnightly letters she, could tell he was desperate for her approval. If Dudley wrote or called once a month she was lucky. The difference was that Dudley knew that his mother loved him unconditionally. He didn't need to write to be assured of that love. Harry was always checking. Petunia wondered if there would ever be a time when he just knew. The realisation that it would probably impact all of his relationships, bought a shameful blush to her cheeks, and a burning to her eyes. She dabbed at them with the corner of her apron, as she stood to retrieve the mail.

There was still a wild look about Ron's eyes as the boys flooed back into Grimmauld place.

"He took it well then?" Sirius asked with a smirk, once they were all present in the kitchen.

"Fainted on the spot!" Harry chortled.

"Not funny Harry!" Ron whined as he tried to grab Harry in a head lock. But Harry ducked out of the way and ran to the other side of the table.

"What's funny?" Ginny asked as she and the twins entered the kitchen.

"Nothing," Ron, Harry and Percival chorused in unison.

"Don't you start, we get enough of that from the twins. Where have you been all morning? I wanted to ask Percival a question about Runes," Ginny asked.

"Up with Buckbeak, sorry," Ron lied easily.

"I could have helped, if you had asked," Sirius said. "It's been a while, but I have been brushing up on them recently so I can help Harry if needed. Or those twin brothers of yours are quite clever you know. I'd bet a galleon that they know enough Runes to pass their OWLs at least."

"Oi!"

"Don't go letting all our secrets out."

"Mum doesn't even know what electives we took."

"And we'd like it to be kept that way."

The twins glared at Sirius, who looked back nonplussed.

"Boys, boys, boys," he said shaking his head. "You will have to do better than that, I went to school with…..Snape."

Harry noticed the almost slip again, but didn't say anything this, sure that Sirius wouldn't answer in front of the others. He would have time to delve into that later. Honestly, he was not at all sure that he wanted to know the answer.

"Right you are," Fred said giving in suddenly.

"We'll just head," said George.

"Back up," added Fred.

"Potions on the boil you know." They quickly left.

"You really think they know about Runes?" Ginny asked.

"Absolutely, I caught them, creating self-cutting scissors over the summer. Runes all over them. Terribly difficult to create."

"Oh good," she looked vaguely relieved as she ran out the door, chasing after her brothers.

"Did they really?" Harry asked curiously.

"No!" Sirius said flatly. "What they were making was every bit as complicated but not appropriate to talk about with a fourteen-year-old. I'm not telling you pair either," he added before the question was asked.

"Oh, those will be things they are creating for the war then," Harry nodded. There was a whole range of products that he and Percival had talked to the twins about. From security and shielding devices right through to exploding crystal balls. Some of the weaponised items he really didn't want to think about.

With pink cheeks Sirius replied, "I really don't think so."

Percival raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired man.

"Yes, well best if we don't know," Percival agreed after a moment.

"Molly should be back soon, but after a long day at the hospital maybe she'd like a night off cooking," Harry suggested, looking to where the clock showed that it was now six o'clock.

"Alright," Sirius agreed. "What should we have?"

Harry opened the cupboards and decided to make the same shepherd's pie he had made with his aunt. It was an easy recipe to remember. Maybe they could have some vegetables on the side, and a cheese sauce. Ron left to write a letter to Bill if he would visit so that he could ask for advice on his accounts. Percival decided now was as good a time as any to investigate Mrs Black's portrait.

As Harry put all the vegetables on the counter, the doorbell rang, and Mrs Black started screaming again. Assuming that Mundungus or some other Order member had come to call, Harry merely continued peeling the potatoes with the spell Mrs Weasley had taught him. It came as a slight shock when loud footsteps entered the room.

"I want to talk to you," a demanding voice echoed through the room. Sirius stuck his head out of the pantry, where he had been searching for some onions.

"What have I done now?" he asked innocently, causing Harry to giggle.

"Not you! Harry!" Hermione said.

"Oh, right then," he ducked back into the pantry.

"Sirius!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "I want to talk to Harry privately."

"Oh oh right. Just a tick."

A moment later he emerged and placed a net full of onions onto the counter.

"You know the chopping spell and the one to keep the onion juice out of your eyes?"

Harry nodded," Yeah, Mrs Weasley showed me."

"You'll have to excuse me if I keep working Hermione," Harry said. "I'm planning on giving Mrs Weasley the night off. She's spent all day at the hospital you know. It's a very stressful time for them. I thought you said you were going skiing with your mum and dad."

"Well to tell you the truth, skiing's not my _really_ my thing," said Hermione, looking slightly to the left. "So, I've come here for Christmas." There was snow in her hair and her face was pink with cold. She looked around as if checking to see if anyone else was around before she leant in and whispered "But don't tell Ron. I told him skiing's really good because he kept laughing so much." She straightened and began speaking normally again, "Mum and Dad are a bit disappointed, but I've told them that everyone who is serious about the exams is staying at Hogwarts to study. They want me to do well, they'll understand."

"How did you get here then if you told them that you were staying at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, I just caught the Express then got on the Underground. It really is quite easy to navigate you know," she wasn't going to tell him that Professor Dumbledore had actually apparatus her right to the front door.

Harry was angry. He really couldn't believe her. Hermione had parents who clearly wanted the best for her and here she was risking her life for what? To see them? No something isn't right here, perhaps Percival …no…Ron, Ron knew her best, perhaps he could figure out what was going on.

"So, did you ask Sirius if he was happy to have you?"

"Pft," Hermione snorted. "Why would I do that? Of course, I'm welcome to stay. Harry this is the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix," she said the title grandly. "Professor Dumbledore was fine with me staying, he thought I could help you study."

"Hermione," Harry started. "This might be headquarters but it is also Sirius' home. You wouldn't just rock up to someone else's house and presume that it's ok for you to stay for two weeks without asking."

"Oh Harry," Hermione started.

"You raise an excellent point," Sirius said as he re-entered the kitchen. "I would never turn anyone away at Yule, Miss Granger, however what you have done is the height of rudeness and if you wish to progress to the echelons of Wizarding society to which you seem to feel you deserve to ascend, then you will have to improve your manners. As during the summer, you will be sharing a room with Ginny. Sheets are in the hall cupboard, as your arrival was unexpected you will have to make your bed yourself."

"But…"

"Miss Granger, you have made your feelings on House Elves clear and it would hardly be appropriate for me to enter the bedroom of a teenage witch to make the bed now would it."

"No…." she blushed. "But Mrs Weasley…"

"Has spent all day at the hospital, where her husband is recuperating and is very worried about more important things right at this moment. Harry has just finished making dinner to allow her a chance to rest. It would be unfair and again, rude to expect her to do your chores for you. I am sure if you ask nicely Ginny will show you the correct spell to use."

"Of course. If you could just put my trunk…"

"I believe you know both the shrinking and enlarging spells Miss Granger as they are taught in second year. I suggest you use them. While you are up there perhaps you might advise the others that dinner is about to be served."

Thoroughly cowed now Hermione bent her head, "Of course."

Sirius and Harry watched her leave the room.

"That was weird," Harry commented.

"Hmmm, we'll need to keep an eye on her. There is no way she would just change her mind about the holidays at the last moment. Though that is just an assumption from what I have seen of her."

"No, she doesn't change her mind easily. I thought I'd talk to Ron about."

"Not Percival."

"No, Ron knows her better. We had better set the table."

"Now," Sirius was saying to those gathered at the table, as the twins cleared away the remnants of the meal. "Tonight, we will head out to gather mistletoe and holly to decorate the house. Do not even consider spelling it," he said sternly looking at Fred and George. "When we get back we will light the Yule log. Tomorrow we will raise the tree and decorate it."

"Sirius you can't take the children out at a time like this."

"But Molly, the traditions are important."

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"I won't give on this Molly, I have a lot to be grateful for this year. I'm not going to upset Magic now by not honouring my family traditions."

"It's a load of old hooey anyway, everyone knows that Sirius. As if grabbing a couple of weeds out of the garden would help protect us at the moment."

"Out of the garden? Mrs Weasley, do you have holly and mistletoe in the orchard at the burrow."

"That's what you took from that? Yes, Harry we do."

"Do you think there is a tree we could use as a Christmas tree?"

"Yule tree Harry," Sirius corrected. "Perhaps a compromise Molly. We could ask Bill if he is also available, I believe he is coming to talk to Ron. Then there would be an even number of adults and children and we could go and collecting at the Burrow?"

"Well…..yes. I think…yes. I haven't had a yule log in the house since Arthur and I got married," she smiled fondly at the memory.

"Not all the old traditions are bad," Sirius murmured.

"No, I suppose not."

"Right that is settled then, assuming that Bill can come, we will head to the orchard at the Burrow. If Bill cannot come, then Ginny I am afraid that you will need to stay behind. Percival, you'll be with me, Harry with Fred and Ron with George."

Ginny looked ready to protest, "No Ginny, if there is no adult to look after you, you cannot go," Mrs Weasley said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"What about me!" Hermione complained.

"Well if I had known you were coming, perhaps we could have arranged for Remus to be here, but as he is off on a mission for the Order that is just not possible at this late notice. And Mrs Weasley looks far too tired to be made to go traipsing around the orchard for several hours."

"But, that's not fair!"

"You should have thought of that before you dropped in unannounced. Just be glad that Mrs Weasley is here, or I would have sent you back to school because I will not leave you in my house unsupervised."

"But my parent's leave me home by myself all the time."

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger, they are your parents. I am not."

"Well if I can't go then, nobody else should. It isn't polite to go out while you have guests."

"I am taking my invited guests with me Miss Weasley, you were not invited nor expected. I have already had to send Kreacher out for additional food. If I was not the gentleman I am you would be out on the street."

Hermione's hair started to fizz, as she prepared to argue, but the fireplace turned green and two red-haired men stepped out in quick succession.

"Look who I found on the way home mum," Bill bent down to give his mother a hug.

"Charlie! Oh, now it really is Christmas," Molly sprang at her second oldest and hugged him tightly.

"Hey Mum. They swapped things around, so I could have the week off, once they heard. Should I head over to see dad now?"

"No dear. Visiting hours are over, they threw me out, if you can believe it."

"Didn't they let Bill stay the last night?" Ron asked.

"Yes, but it was a bit different then, now he is stable."

"Sorry, for dropping in suddenly Sirius," Charlie looked at his host. "I would be awfully grateful if I could stay the night. If not, I'll head to the Burrow."

"I would not turn someone away at Yule," Sirius smiled.

"Thank you. Tomorrow I'll make arrangements to stay somewhere else."

"It's alright Charlie. We'll move Harry and Percival into Regulus' old room, and you can share with Ron."

"If you're sure?" Charlie said uncertainly. "Where are you staying Bill?"

"In a tiny studio apartment, care of Gringotts. Unfortunately, we are under strict instructions not to have guests."

"That's awfully inconvenient," his younger brother said with a grin.

"Charlie!" Mrs Weasley admonished.

"Sorry mum," Charlie said still grinning, obviously not sorry at all.

"Well, if you are willing," Sirius grinned. "There is a way you can earn your accommodation for the week."

"Um," Charlie looked around at his family, trying to judge their reactions. "It depends on what it is?"

"Well tonight, is the sixth night following the new moon, so…."

"It is the night to gather the mistletoe and holly."

"Exactly, I am glad you know the traditions. Molly, quite rightly, was worried about us just heading out into the woods to collect them, especially when we could find everything at the Burrow. However, it appeared that we were one adult down. If you wouldn't mind taking Miss Granger whom we were not expecting?"

The sturdy man looked at the girl in question, before responding, "Certainly."

"Right then, coats everyone, beanies and scarves too."

"I'll make sure there is hot chocolate waiting to warm you up when you get back," Mrs Weasley smiled.

"If you are too tired to wait up, don't fuss over it Molly. Kreacher can always pop some on for us."

"Alright, maybe I'll just have a cup of tea and head to bed."

"So," Bill said, when they had returned to Grimmauld place. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about Ron?"

"Ah. It's a bit private actually," Ron blushed. "Could we go into the Parlour?"

"Sure," Bill shrugged.

The pair left the table. Fred and George, noticed that Percival and Harry didn't seem to be particularly concerned, being more focussed on their warm drinks and each other, a point which they filed that away for later. Hermione however was smiling indulgently, which was …odd. What on earth did she think that Ron and Bill were talking about?

"So, Harry, what do you think our brothers are talking about?" Fred asked.

"Hmm, oh nothing much I'm sure," Harry replied vaguely briefly looking away from Percival, until the older boy reached out a finger to wipe the dot of milk foam off Harry's nose. An action which drew the younger's attention back to Percival along with s shy smile. Yes, there was definitely something going on there.

Hermione giggled.

"Do you know something, oh fuzzy haired one?" George asked, looking away from his pseudo brother with a frown.

"Not really, but I think we can all figure it out, don't you?" Hermione wrapped both hands around her cup and smiled sweetly.

"Care to enlighten those of us who have only just wandered in to this twilight zone?" Charlie said.

"It's obvious," she rolled her eyes. "Ron isn't sure how to ask me out and is asking Bill for advice," she stated triumphantly.

Harry snorted, but didn't look away from Percival as he took another sip of hot chocolate.

"What?" Hermione turned to glare at him.

"Well, let's just say that I hope you aren't too disappointed," Harry finally looked at someone other than the boy next to him.

"I'm sure that is, what it's about, right Ginny?"

"Um, I don't know Hermione," Ginny responded thoughtfully. "I mean he hasn't really spoken about you much in the last few weeks. In fact I am pretty sure I caught him looking at either Parvati or Lav the other day. It's hard to tell which as they are always together."

Disappointed by Ron's wondering eye, not to mention the lack of expected support, Hermione rose to her feet in a huff, "Well I know that I'm right."

"I guess we will see in time," Harry was not at all upset, that she hadn't listened to him, he reached out to grab a gingerbread man off the tray, broke it in half and gave the other half to Percival.

"Yes, we will. I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight," those gather at the table chorused, relieved to see her leave.

Narrowing his eyes for a moment Sirius watched her go, he wouldn't put it passed her to try and eavesdrop on the conversation in the parlour. Dropping his wand into his hand he muttered a soft word under his breath to bring up the privacy protections on the parlour. It would mean that he was aware of the subject of the conversation, but he would apologise to Ron for that after.

Hermione carefully ascended the stairs, ensuring she made no sound. She would show them, she knew she was right like she always was. Though it wouldn't hurt to check on her way passed. On the second last step she could hear their voices through the closed door. Just a little bit closer and she would know. She took a step towards the door, but the voices faded out. Maybe they had moved away from the door. Which was entirely impossible in that small room. Maybe they had headed into the library? No not Ron, he would never step foot in a library. He wasn't the brightest, poor boy, but that would make life easier for them later on. By this point she had her ear pressed right up against the door, she still couldn't detect any noise from inside the room. Why was she bothering anyway, she knew she was right, with that last thought Hermione made her way up to bed.

The group gathered at the table waited for Ron and Bill to emerge, before Sirius pulled out the Yule log.

"We will light it in the Parlour," Sirius said. He hefted up the log and carried it up the stairs, with a procession of the others behind him. It was placed carefully in the hearth. "On this night let this light guide magic to us and banish the darkess." He struck a match to light the kindling that surrounded the log. "Let it light the way for those who wander and help those who are lost to find their way. May it continue to glow through all the dark hours of the season. Blessed may we be."

He turned to face the others, "You two," he pointed at the twins, "Are in charge of making a wreath for the front door. Bill and Charlie if you could decorate the house with the holly, we will raise other decorations tomorrow. Percival, Harry and Ron, we will enchant the mistletoe."

Everyone went about their tasks and it wasn't long until everyone had gathered again in the parlour.

"What about the tree?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes well, I was thinking about that, and I wasn't sure if we should put it here, in the kitchen or in the drawing room."

"It won't really fit in here or the kitchen will it?" Harry asked.

"Well, I suppose I could make this room a bit bigger," Sirius said.

"Then I think it should be in here with the yule log," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Fred, George, Bill and Charlie, if you could bring it up," Sirius had un-shrunk the tree in the kitchen, where it was currently occupying a corner of the room and insisted that after the unshrinking no further magic was to be used upon it.

It only took a few minutes for the boys to bring the tree in, in which time Sirius had expanded the room to triple its original size. He called Kreacher to retrieve more chairs and a couch from the attic.

"There," he said proudly once the tree was in place. "Tomorrow, I will show you the spell for creating the decorations."

"But Sirius you said no more magic."

"Yes, but Harry, this isn't magic on the tree this will be conjuring."

"Can't you show us now?" he pleaded.

Bill grinned as he watched Sirius' internal fight between the desire to be an adult and send the children to bed because it was late or giving his Godson everything, he wanted.

"One late night won't matter," Bill said. "They can sleep in tomorrow morning."

Sirius grinned, "Alright. Now the spell is Lux aeterna."

A pale blue spell coalesced into a flickering flame that rested on his hand. Harry picked up his wand, and a moment later was marvelling at the light he held in his own hand. His was tinged with gold. It was just bouncing playfully on his palm, warming it whenever it came into contact with his skin, but the warmth dissipated nearly instantly.

"Stop playing with it and put it on the tree already Harry," Charlie laughed.

Harry looked up to see a dozen lights already glowing on the tree and blushed.

"Because these lights have been conjured, they are made completely from you magic. Each one will look slightly different and someone who knows you well will be able to tell which ones are yours," Sirius told them as he rested his latest light on a branch. It danced around in an amusing fashion.

Harry fancied he could see chocolate brown eyes in the silver light of another, its flicker was calm and smooth. "This one," he took Percival's hand. "Is this one yours?"

"Well spotted Harry," Percival said warmly. "Put yours on the tree, your falling behind."

With all nine of them making the flames it took hardly any time at all for the tree to be covered.

"I think that is about enough," Sirius stood back and looked at the tree.

Sinking to the floor in front of the fire Harry was glad that there was so little heat produced by the flames, or the tree would have surely caught alight.

"Can we have a cup of tea before bed?" he turned wide green eyes on his Godfather.

"Alright."

A moment later a fully laden tea tray appeared on the side table. They all took a cup and sat watching the flickering lights dance over the tree, growing steadily sleepier.

"Come on, the only two small enough to be carried are Ginny and Harry and to be honest I'm getting a bit old for that. Bill wake up those evil twins, Charlie wake up Ron and Ginny, I'll wake Harry and Percival. It is past time for this old dog to be in bed," Sirius chivied them into getting up and taking them selves off to their rooms. "Sheets are in the hall cupboard Charlie if you need them, I believe Kreacher has put a bed in there for you he might have made it. Ron can show you the way. Bill are you staying the night?"

"No. I'll floo home, but I'll come back before work in the morning."

"If you have enough time, feel free to join us for breakfast."

Bill nodded, poked the twins in the ribs once more, to get them moving towards the stairs and headed down to the floo in the kitchen.

Surprisingly Harry didn't sleep in, the next morning. He was too excited, he had of course seen Christmas at Hogwarts but this would be his first Christmas that he remembered with his family. He wasn't the only one that was excited, Sirius was also up early and had been annoying Kreacher while he was trying to make breakfast causing the Elf to mutter about the most annoying dogfather, who should be wearing a lead, and sleep in a kennel. Sirius thought it was hilarious.

Taking pity on the Elf Harry had dragged the older man back into the parlour and coaxed him into showing him how to make other decorations. His favourite charm was Parva Aqua Glacium, which turned a ball amount of water into little ice crystal that reflected the light. After that he had prevailed upon Dobby to make some sweetly flavoured popcorn and showed Sirius how to thread it together to make chains that could be used to further decorate the tree with edible treats. As each person woke up they were drawn to the laughter spilling out of the room, and came to join in. Soon everyone, including Mrs Weasley who was creating several of the popcorn strings to take to Arthur, was seated around the room laughing merrily.

"What on earth have you done?" the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a screech.

Everyone looked around in confusion, unable to see any cause for alarm.

"Are you trying to set the house on fire!" Hermione demanded as she strode into the room pointing at the twinkling tree, and effectively stilling the laughter. "Bluebell flames might not burn people, but they certainly burn plants. After first year you two should have known that!" She glared at Ron and Harry as she pulled out her wand and began to cast "Aguamenti. Aguamenti! AGUAMENTI!"

There was no tell-tale flash of light, nor a gush of water. She held her wand up so that it was pointing at her and she could inspect the tip. Sirius had a curious smirk on his face as she said the incantation once more. Water gushed out hitting her in the face. "Pt…" Hermione spluttered.

"You will find Miss Granger that no one may cast a spell in this room without my express permission."

"I was just trying to….."

"You burst into a room, full of people who have obviously been sitting here for sometime, with the alleged flaming tree of death and remained un-harmed. There was no need for the screaming and shouting. If you had just asked, we could have told you that these are not blue-bell flames. In fact if you had just looked at them you would have seen that they are not in fact blue at least mostly. These are the magic light eternal. Which are quite a common Wizarding deoration, They have been conjured with the express purpose of honouring magic and drawing her good will onto this house for the coming season."

"That's ridiculous! Magic is a thing not a person."

"I think you'll find that magic is an anthropomorphic personification," Percival muttered, into Harry's ear. The warmth of his breath made Harry shiver, for some unknown reason.

"Regardless, as I am sure Molly remembers from her youth, these flames while slightly warm, will neither grow larger nor burn the tree. The will remain lit as they are until magic decides that they should go out and then they will fade one by one, when the last one has died then and only then can the tree be removed."

"I still think it's ridiculous," she turned her nose up and left the room, stomping down the stairs presumably on her way to the kitchens.

Bill visited regularly over the week, having several quiet conversations with his youngest brother, who could often be seen wearing a thoughtful expression. Hermione took this to mean that Ron was waiting to ask her out until Christmas, probably with a piece of jewellery, it would be small of course, but she didn't need much. Yes he must have asked Bill if he could purchase it for him. Harry was beginning to think that she was insane.

Meanwhile Hermione had taken to popping up wherever Harry was and demanding that she look over his homework again, much to his annoyance. More than once he had snapped at her. This only led to her tutting at him in a condescending manner and slyly saying that he wouldn't be responding that way if Percival hadn't done something to him. It was evidence as far as she was concerned. This meant Harry returned to hiding in the library with Percival, so he could actually complete his homework in peace. In fact all the boys had completed their homework in record time and were now able to spend the rest of the holidays relaxing, despite Hermione's nagging.

It seemed like the days hurried passed and suddenly it was Christmas Eve and they were all gathered in the parlour once more. It had been a long day. Bill and Ron had gone to see Striknott. Ron returned obviously happy with results of the meeting while Bill was visibly shocked. Harry, Percival and Sirius had popped round to see Seraphina and exchange presents before she portkeyed back home because she had several charity events to attend to. The Weasley's and Hermione had all visited Arthur at St Mungo's as well. It seemed that a mysterious benefactor had created an antivenin that seemed to be working and the man's wounds were finally closing. To Arthur's disappointment the muggle stitches had been removed.

"Now Molly," Sirius began. "In my family it is tradition for everyone to receive one present on Christmas Eve. Usually these would be presents from family. However this evening I have a present for each of you, which I would be honoured to give out."

With a wave of his wand, several boxes rose from the pile under the tree, separated and drifted to float in front of each of them.

"Really?" Harry asked with wide eyes, looking at the beautifully wrapped present hovering at eye level.

"Yes Harry," Sirius leaned down to where Harry was sitting on the floor next to his chair. "And this isn't your only present from me."

"Oh, wow!" Harry couldn't stop his grin from growing, until it felt like it swallowed his whole face. He carefully peeled back the tape, and unfolded the paper, before he removed the last bit to reveal the present, he looked around the room. Percival had a slight smile on his face holding a picture of Seraphina and …..well it was the old Percival. The twins looked stunned as if someone had hit them over their heads, Fred held a bank note for a thousand Galleons and George held a handwritten book titled _"The Marauders Compendium"._ Later they would find a piece of parchment folded and placed inside the cover that instructed them pass it on to Harry when they had finished with it. Ron, was quite happy with his muggle book on how to manage shares in the stock market and Ginny loved her teenwitch potions book, which came with all the ingredients to make her own makeup and several different types of perfume. While Mrs Weasley was just staring at her hand in shock.

"You can't Sirius, it's too much," she whispered.

"I can," he said firmly. "The Burrow is your home. You should be able to live in it in safety. It also means that Harry will be able to come and visit and be safe there. When we were there the other night I noticed several places were the wards were becoming worn. If nothing else, Ron is Harry's best friend, let me keep him safe."

She sniffled a little but nodded her head, "What did he…" Bill took the piece of paper out of Molly's hand, and saw it was a voucher for a team to upgrade the wards at the Burrow. He nodded his thanks to the other man. Being a curse breaker he could easily see the places where the wards were growing thin, but he didn't have the skills to repairs them, this would ease his worries a great deal. Bill and Charlie had each graciously received a cloak spelled for protection against fire and damage.

"Aren't you going to open yours Harry?" Percival nudged his leg, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh," Harry's eyes dropped to the paper in his lap. Finally he removed the last piece, it was a framed Wizarding photograph. A giggling baby Harry was being held by a laughing James, with Lily standing next to them. Suddenly a large black dog bounded into the frame transformed into a man, plucked baby Harry from his father's arms, and spun him around. James then took baby Harry back and Sirius turned back into Padfoot and bounded out of the photo. Then it all started again. A small drop of water fell onto the glass, and he wiped it away gently with his thumb, but another fell in its place.

"What is this!" seethed Hermione. Glaring at her present.

Everyone stared at her.

"A book on etiquette! Really, how rude!" she jumped to her feet. "After everything I have done to help your Godson, this is what I get!"

"Hermione," Sirius said in a deep formal tone. "If my gift to has caused offence, I beg your pardon. Harry had mentioned how much you like books, and as you appeared not to be aware of the differences between Muggle and Wizarding etiquette I thought to provide you with a resource you could use."

Hermione just sniffed, and stormed out of the room, though she did take the book with her.

"Argh," Bill groaned as he woke up slowly. "I am getting far too old to be sleeping in chairs anymore." He stretched his back and cracked his neck. After the opening of the gifts they had all stayed up talking. The adults drinking celebratory cup of mulled wine and the children butter beer, eating the gingerbread that Harry had made after he had returned from Seraphina's. Sirius had shown him a tricky little spell that made the icing on the stars actually shine.

"I wondered if you made it to bed last night," Mrs Weasley said cheerily as she pushed open the door and viewed the bodies arranged on the floor. Bill and Charlie had fallen asleep in their chairs, while the children were spread out around the floor. All of them were covered in blankets and pillows under their heads.

"Who covered us up?" Charlie asked.

"Sirius," a sleepy voice came from his left, "and Kreacher. They didn't want to wake anyone, so they covered us up." Harry rolled onto his side to face the door.

"And where is the old dog now?"

"Right behind you Molly," Sirius said, quirking his eyebrow.

It seemed his whole personality had changed from the miserable man he had been, barely holding onto his sanity by a thread, after his years on the run. To the calm but jovial aristocrat that had greeted them at the start of the holidays. He was definitely happier, more at peace with himself and was taking his role in Harry's life seriously.

"There was no way I was going to carry them all up those stairs! I am surprised that they aren't all up already, what with the presents waiting for them."

Just like magic those words caused a stir, suddenly there were groans from all around the room as each blanket cocoon unfurled and revealed its occupant. Except for Harry. Harry sat up still wrapped in his blanket and wiggled on his bottom, until he was close to Percival at which point he toppled over and landed with his head in the taller boys lap, causing the others to laugh. Percival just raked a hand through the messier than usual hair, a soft smile on his face.

Molly laughed at them all as she left the room, saying that she was going to start breakfast and that they should come to the kitchen when they were ready to eat.

George was the first one to actually notice presents were lying in piles around the room and not upstairs on their beds as was usual. He had decided to unroll himself from his blanket, and as he turned himself over his foot caught on something and sent it flying into Charlie's chair with a crash.

"Ah what is this, brother mine?" An extra present for me?" Charlie grinned as he bent and scooped it off the floor. "From an Angelina Johnson." He said reading the card. "Hmm, she's one of the chasers right, made the team in my last year. Now why would the pretty little chaser be sending you a present for Yule?"

"Give it back," George snapped, reaching out to try and snatch it off his brother, who being on the chair had a height advantage. "Come on, no fair!"

"Charlie, give Fred back his present please," Molly voice echoed up the stairs.

Charlie saw the disappointment that flashed across his brother's face. "There you go George," he passed the present back.

"Come on Harry. Presents!" Ron pushed Harry with his foot.

"Don't need presents," Harry mumbled. "Have everything I need. The One last night was more than enough."

Thwack.

"Here start with this, I got one too."

Something heavy landed on Harry's chest. It was his present from Hermione. Harry had, under advisement from the other Gryffindor girls, given her a pot of Perfect Potions, which he believed was some sort of magical make-up, anyway Parvati had said that Hermione had recently started using it so he hoped it was what she wanted.

Rolling over to lie on his back he opened the parcel to reveal a book that resembled a diary, except that every time he opened a page it said aloud things like '_Do it today or later you'll pay.'_ Which made the twins laugh. Hermione had written other dates in it as well, like when he should commence studying for the exams. All the assignments for divination were listed along with which chapters of these book had been covered as well. He shook his head and put it aside, perhaps he would ask Dobby to burn it later. He really should talk to Addison about his aversion to diaries.

Lupin had given him a very obviously old and well-loved set of books entitled _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_, which had superb moving colour illustrations of all the counter-jinxes and hexes it described. In the card he had written- _Your father gave this to me in our sixth year. It came from the Potter library and I believe the notes inside are by your Grandfather, at least they look like Fleamont's writing. Merry Christmas._ Harry flicked through the pages, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What have you got there Harry?" Harry lifted the book to show Sirius.

"Huh, I never thought he would have parted with that."

Hagrid had sent Harry a biting wallet. Tonks' present was a miniature working model of a firebolt. Ron had given him the usual box of Bertie Bots every flavoured beans to match the box of chocolate frogs which Harry always gave to Ron. From Mr and Mrs Weasley, he had received the usual hand-knitted jumper and some fruit mince pies. Kreacher and Dobby had apparently worked together to produce a truly dreadful painting. He turned it upside down to see whether it looked better that way. It didn't. Though after seeing it he was glad that he had arranged for Sirius to purchase a ream of cloth so that the Elves could make themselves some kind of uniform. Finally, under Fred and George's gift of a skiving snackbox, Harry found his last two presents, one from Sirius and one from Percival.

Harry smiled at Percival as he removed the paper from what he knew was a shrunken portrait of his Grandfather Fleamont. Seraphina had found it in archives at MACUSA and arranged for it to be sent to Percival. There was a small ritual that Harry would have to do at Imbolc to wake it up. The Fleamont in the paining was only about fifty, having just developed the skeekeazy potion, but he was still family and Harry was sure that there was a lot Potter of history that he would be able to impart.

The card from Sirius was twice the size of the box it was attached to and the moment he opened it there was the sound of horns and a burst of balloons and confetti. Which left Harry looking like he had been snowed on.

_Harry (Prongslet, Winnie-the-Grand-Poohba),_

_It is my deepest regret that when you have needed me most I have not been there for you. I promise that it will never occur again. I know that I am not the only one receiving a second chance from you, so I have been in contact with your Aunt. We have arranged, that should you wish it, you can spend the summer between the two houses. Or and I haven't spoken to Petunia about this yet, but the Black' have a summer house in the Cotswolds that is big enough that we can all vacation there. Your present is a promise to you that I will never leave you again. It is up to you if you accept it or not. The promise will not change regardless of your answer._

_Sirius (Padfoot, the Dogfather)_

Picking up the little box Harry looked at it curiously, it seemed that not only Sirius, but Percival had stopped to watch him. As he had with all of his other presents he careful slid a finger under the tape making no rips, removed the black leather box from within and folded the paper neatly and put on the pile. Running a finger over the soft leather, Harry realised it was a ring box.

Inside was a silver ring set with onyx, into which the Black family shield was engraved.

"Sirius?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"It's the Black heir ring. Kreacher found it for me. I wore it as a boy, and then after I was disowned, Regulus wore it. I thought…at first, I thought he was still wearing it when…" he swallowed harshly. "But Kreacher told me that Regulus gave it to him for safe keeping, in case I ever came home."

"What does it mean?"

"It means," Percival said to give Sirius a moment. "That Sirius is offering you the heirship to house Black. He is announcing to the world…"

"That I see you as my son," Sirius said gruffly. "That no matter if I should one day have children of my own, that I will always see you as my oldest son."

"But…"

"It takes nothing away from James and Lily. While the Potter's were a wealthy house, they came from the merchant class and not from the peerage."

Harry rubbed the edge of the ring and wondered whether his dad would have minded.

"Your Grandfather took me in when I needed a home. I wasn't the first child in history that the Potters fostered. I honestly believe that not only would James not be upset by this, but he would also expect it of me," Sirius answered the unasked question.

Harry held the ring up uncertainly, "So how do I wear this thing?"

Sirius hollered, picked Harry up off the floor and swung him around, depositing him on his feet. "Ah, right, so," he grabbed Harry's left hand still vibrating with happiness, and Percival passed him the box. "Harry I name you my heir, do you agree?"

Harry nodded.

Percival reached up and tugged the hem of Harry's shirt, "You need to use your words."

"Yes, Sirius I accept."

Sirius slid the ring onto Harry's index finger, "Blessings be."

"Blessings be," was repeated around the room.

"You truly mean it, you'll never leave me?" Harry looked up into the silver eyes of his Godfather.

"Yes, Harry I do. I've stuffed up, I know that, and I can't promise to always get it right, but I will say to you what Fleamont said to me. I am sure that we will argue every now and then, adults and teenagers do but in my heart, you are my son and there is nothing that will ever change that." He held his arms out wide and waited for teary Harry to step into them.

"Breakfast's ready," Mrs Weasley called up the stairs. "Come on you lot. We need to eat, if we want to go and see your father this morning."

They entered the kitchen to see a table laden down with every type of breakfast food imaginable.

"Are we expecting a small army Molly?" Sirius asked. The lady in question just blushed.

"Don't be ridiculous. If I'm at the hospital all day again, then you'll have plenty of leftovers for lunch. And dinner. Now sit down and eat."

An hour later everyone had pushed their plates away, and Percival looked around the table.

"Um, has anyone seen Hermione this morning?" he asked. Everyone shook their heads.

"Was she in your room when you went to get changed Ginny?" Sirius asked. The fourteen year old thought for a moment and then shook her head. "Kreacher?"

His "Yes, Master," was followed by a muttered. "Let's filthy mudbloods stick their noses where they aren't wanted."

"Kreacher," Sirius said sternly. "We don't use that language, but where has Hermione been sticking her nose this morning."

"Into my nest!" the old Elf grouched.

"You may take whatever action you deem necessary to keep her out of it Kreacher. Where else?"

"She is downstairs," he grumbled.

"Downstairs? But the only thing down there is the dungeon and the potions lab," he looked sharply at the Elf. "What is she doing down there?"

"Making stinking potions."

"Right I am going to get her, but after this Kreacher if you could ward the house so that she can't access anything apart from the bedroom she is in, the bathroom, the kitchen and the parlour."

"Sirius, surely you can't mean to restrict her in such a fashion, it's…."

"It is appropriate consequences, Moly. She turned up here with out warning, expecting to be allowed to stay, She has been harassing not only Ron and Percival but Harry as well and now she has been found wandering in areas of the house that are best left undisturbed. If I can't trust her, then there are two options, she leaves or she has restricted access to the house," he said firmly.

"But it's just the potions lab, Sirius," Molly tried.

"And I know that the dungeons she had to walk past to get there and the potions lab were both used by Bellatrix as well as my mother. Who knows what has been left there. For all that magic cleaned this house during the summer, she left behind all items of magic, including ones that I for one would be very cautious touching and would certainly never expose an unsuspecting child to."

"Yes, you're right," Molly conceded. "But I thought you had that sort of stuff put away."

"From the upper floors, and this level but not the lower one as the door was sealed and locked. I trusted Ginny, Ron, Harry and Percival not to go looking and the twins, not to touch anything that was dangerous. Hermione however I obviously misjudged," he pushed his chair away from the table and stood.

During the summer, before Harry had arrived, when she and the Weasleys had been the only ones at Grimmauld place, they had all gone exploring. Below the basement kitchen they had found a pair of locked doors. Alohomora wouldn't open them. The twins experimented until they found the perfect combination and eased the first door open an inch. She remembered that they had backed away from that first room so fast that Fred and stood on her foot, slamming the door shut and locking it again. Though they appeared pale and shaky their insatiable curiosity got the better of them and they moved to the second door. This time Hermione positioned herself so she could see the spells they cast. Having already opened the first door, the second was unlocked without difficulty, and the brown haired girl had learnt a new spell.

Christmas morning seemed like the perfect opportunity. Everybody else seemed to be having a sleep in. She chuckled as she silently dressed and left her room. Checking the kitchen was also empty on the way passed she headed left and down the stairs. Her memory was good enough that it only took four tries for her to get the incantation and wand action well enough to open the door. There is was, a well fitted out potions lab, just what she needed. Dumbledore had told her to be more subtle and she had taken his words to heart, she had even written down her step by step plan. She had changed the way she asked the boys about their homework, subtly working in comments about Percival and showing how he was leading them astray, without being too obvious. Though she was beginning to think they had fallen so far behind by now that there was no point. Still she had to keep up appearances for consistencies sake. She pulled her text book out of her pocket and laid in on the table before looking around for the ingredients. Surely there was something that she could make that would help her plan.

Opening the door to the potions lab silently Sirius observed the girl bending over the table, focussed intently on her work.

"What are you doing Miss Granger?"

"Epp!" she jumped in fright, nearly knocking the cauldron to the floor. "Nothing."

"Really, so while everyone else is upstairs, unwrapping presents on this joyous occasion, and having a celebratory breakfast, you are down here doing nothing?" his eyebrow arched.

"Well I just thought I would get ahead on a little studying," she smiled winsomely.

"Really. What exactly are you practicing?"

"Oh you know this and that," she shrugged. Moving her cauldron a little to try and mask it with the tome she had propped open on the table.

"Really I am pretty sure that _Moste Potente Potions _is not actually part of the Hogwarts curriculum. Not to mention that you would need a note from a teacher to access it because it is kept in the restricted section of the library. From the smell in the room and the mist rising from your cauldron I would suggest you might be brewing a potion which I know to be illegal, and we are expect an auror to appear, just up those stairs at any moment."

Hermione was very red now, and kept opening and closing her mouth as if she would very much like to argue but didn't really know what she could say. After all the annoying man was right. It was just a little Amortentia, what was the harm really. But Moody, would certainly never see it that way. Every time he came to Grimmauld place she was sure that he kept one eye on her. She had mentioned it to Ron, he said that he was sure Moody wasn't and maybe it was her guilty conscious talking. She had told him that she wasn't going to help him with his history homework as punishment. The boy had actually laughed.

"Tip the potion out now Miss Granger," Sirius said sternly.

"But….no….. I…..no, I made it, it's mine," Hermione claimed stoutly.

"Really, that is the argument you are going with. Where did you get the ingredients from?" Her reddening face was enough of an answer. "I though as much, that is theft, throw the potion away now!" He watched as she moved to the sink, then he checked that the cauldron was truly empty before he made her wash it out. "You will no longer have the freedom to wander this house at your will Miss Granger, you will be restricted to the room you share with Ginny, the bathroom, the kitchen and the parlour."

"You can't keep me prisoner here, haven't done anything wrong!" she protested.

The Lord of the House laughed, "Prisoner? You are comparing this to a prison. You are not a prisoner here, after all you may leave whenever you like. As for not doing anything wrong, you broke into a warded room, stole expensive potions ingredients and poorly brewed an illegal potion. It is a blessing from the Gods that I caught you, because if you had given that potion to anyone, you would have killed them."

"It was perfectly brewed!"

He shook his head there was no talking to her, "Go up stairs, Miss Granger, you will be going with Molly to visit Arthur at the hospital."

"But…"

"I told you at the start of your stay, I will not leave you unsupervised in this house and Harry, Percival and I are going to visit family."

"Harry doesn't have any family!"

"Not that it is any of your business but Harry has me and I do. Now go up stairs!"


	18. Chapter 18

The house they portkeyed to was in a normal suburban street and surprisingly Harry thought it was not that much different from Privet Drive. Though the houses and gardens had a a little more variety in style. It was the perfect little chocolate box cottage complete with thatched roof and flowers in all the window boxes. The only way the three approaching it could tell it wasn't a perfectly mundane house was the fizz of the wards as they passed over their skin, just inside the fence line.

Sirius knocked on the door.

A voice called out "I'll get it," the words were followed by the sound of a very large crash.

"Wotcha!" a red-faced Tonks, opened the door, rubbing her left shoulder.

"Little Nymphodora, it is good to see you, would your parents be home?" Sirius said poshly.

Instead of her usual bluster she laughed and punched him on the arm, "Get inside, you old dog. They're expecting you."

She held the door open to allow them into the house, then ducked past and lead them into a cosy sitting room, her hair holding a steady bright yellow.

"Dromeda!" Sirius said softly, as if he were afraid the couple, seated on the love chair in the lounge room they were shown to, would disappear. '"Ted"

"Oh Sirius! I never believed you did it," a woman moved towards him at speed and threw her arms around him in a tight hug, swamping him with her black curls. She pulled back, "I was thwarted at every turn. I tried to get Grandfather involved, but you know how apathetic he got when he was older. Cassiopeia wouldn't talk to me, and being disowned, everywhere else I met dead ends and closed doors."

He pulled her close again, "Thank you for trying. Let's fix part of that shall we?" He raised his wand, "By the magic of my blood I, Sirius Orion Black, invite you, Andromeda Celeste Tonks, to return to your rightful place as a daughter of my house?"

"I would be honoured to re-enter your House, Lord Black."

"Blessings be!" Percival and Harry said quietly. There was a flash of silver blue light around the hugging pair.

"Welcome back," Sirius murmured into her hair, before passing his slightly teary cousin over to her husband. "That of course means your marriage is now ratified as well," Sirius told Ted. "I'll arrange for a notice tone placed in the Daily Prophet."

With an arm still around his wife, Ted reached out an arm to heartily slap Sirius on the back.

"Thank you, this means more to Dromeda than you can know."

"Well," Sirius grinned. "I just didn't know what else to get her for Yule."

They arrived back to an empty Grimmauld place, late in the afternoon in a fabulous mood, stomachs practically bursting from the feast that Andromeda had prepared. Percival as the first on through the floo immediately noticed the present which sat in the middle of the table clumsily wrapped in gold paper complete with bow.

"Um," Harry said unsurely, stopping to look at it.

Percival already had his wand out, casting a range of detection spells that had Sirius raising a curious eyebrow.

"What?" Percival said, when he noticed the look.

"That's an imp…. interesting range of spells you know?"

"Aunt Sera made sure I knew all the detection spells she knew before I was ten," Percival dismissed.

Sirius looked at him consideringly, and threw another couple of spells at the package. These also yielded negative results. "They must use different spells in America then. I'll teach you mine on the condition you teach them all to Harry."

Percival nodded. Watching as Harry picked up the present and flipped the card over.

The breath caught in his throat, and his eyes burned.

"Harry?" Percival asked in concern. "What is it?"

"He said he would do it, but I never thought he actually would," Harry looked up with wet green eyes.

"Who?

"Moody."

"You've got a pesent from Mad Eye?" Sirius gaped.

"Yeah," Harry said softly, running a finger over the paper. "He said he knew Dad." Harry slit the tape and carefully opened the paper, to reveal a book bound in soft brown leather. He reverentially opened the cover. There was a collection of folded parchment at the very front, followed by handwritten pages and at the very back several photographs, which seemed to be printed directly into the book, each with a sentence or two written underneath. He removed the first of the pieces of parchment, it was a letter.

"That's…Lily's writing," Sirius sounded a little choked.

"I asked if he would tell me stories about my parents." Harry admitted. "He said he knew Dad the best, but he must have found this," Harry gently waved the letter, eyes still hungrily devouring it, taking in every curve, dot and line. "It's…I can't believe he did it." Harry sounded excited, a moment later the happiness slid off his face. "And ….I didn't get him anything!" Harry suddenly wailed, drawing a smile from Percival and a laugh from Sirius. "I'm …I mean it. He'll think I'm not grateful, he'll think… What if I upset him?"

"How about you give him a basket of that gingerbread you made."

"That's a good idea, but it's probably better if I make some fresh and give it to him myself, or have you do it at the next meeting, else he wouldn't eat it anyway because….well constant vigilance and all that," Harry said. "Do you think that is enough? What do you buy for a crazy old Auror anyway? I'm sure he has plenty of foe glasses already!"

"Harry your Gingerbread is practically divine, just look Sirius can't keep his hands out of the cookie jar." They looked up to see that Sirius was indeed shoving another star into his mouth.

"What?" crumbs tumbled down his chest. "It's good."

"Nothing!" Percival chuckled. "You might actually need to make him up his own box, because there will be none left!"

"I could do them in different shapes, maybe an Auror, Spell books, an invisibility cloak, what else do Auror's use?"

"His eye and peg leg," Sirius suggested.

"Ooh, yuk, Sirius!"

"Off you go, while you're inspired Harry." Percival pushed him over to the bench. It wasn't long before all three of them were in the kitchen rolling out dough and spelling cookie cutters into the right shapes.

"Now into the oven and we wait," Harry said in satisfaction. "Do you think we made enough?"

"Yes Harry, there is only so much gingerbread one man can eat. Even if it is the most incredible gingerbread ever and I think you made several times that amount required."

"All right."

By the time the Weasley's and Hermione arrived back from St Mungo's the Gingerbread was decorated and wrapped, with a layer of preservation charms on it. Sirius was under strict instructions to give it to Mad Eye at the next Order meeting, which wouldn't be until they went back to school. There was a couple of smaller boxes set aside for Luna and Neville, whom he realised at the last minute he also hadn't bought gifts for, and a larger box for everyone who visited the Rec room.

The kitchen door opened and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came in all looking very happy, with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas covered by a mackintosh.

"Oh, I am glad that we have those leftovers for dinner," Mrs Weasley said as she entered, looking tired.

"Mr Weasley?" Harry smiled. "You're looking much better."

"Cured!" he chortled. "Completely cured!"

"That's wonderful!" Sirius beamed. "Come on sit down, Kreacher and I will sort out dinner. It's only leftovers, even I an't mess that up."

Somewhere along the line it had all gone wrong,.Hermione, closed the door of the room she shared with Ginny and locked it, not wanting to be disturbed. The holidays weren't going as planned at all. It had all started when she had arrived at Grimmauld place. Actually, it had started before then, when all of the others including Percival, were sent to Grimmauld place, while she was let behind at school. It had only gotten worse after she arrived. Percival had let her in. He had been in the entry way, studying the painting of Walburga Black as if he were expecting to learn something from it, which was a laughable idea at best. Then she had gone into the kitchen to talk to Harry ,who the audacity to question her on her motives for changing her holiday plans and seemed angry at her for doing so. Though why he should be she didn't know. Not to mention he wanted to know if she had asked Sirius if it was ok if it she stayed, as if she should have to! She hadn't been able to even talk to Harry by himself, because a moment later Sirius had returned. Since then wherever he was Percival was too, or on the occasion Percival wasn't there, Ronald was. Sirius had also been upset that she had come to visit, again she won't use why, and insisted that she share a room with Ginny! Which was totally unfair, there was a whole other floor of rooms currently not being used that could easily have been converted into bedrooms. Or there was the room that Remus had stayed in, it was free!

And Ginny, she just didn't understand the girl at all. Not three months ago Ginny had been mooning over Harry, and now it was as if….well it was as if she had grown up. Percival and Harry had arrived during the summer and at first the girl had been sad because Harry wouldn't pay her any attention. Now she made statements like, 'I love Harry dearly and just want him to be happy' and 'Percival is so good for him, look at how much more confident Harry is now'. In fact, Ginny had started looking at the other boys around school, and watching them closely. Apparently, she wanted someone to look at her the way Percival looked at Harry. It actually made Hermione cringe. Did the girl not see that she and Harry were perfect for each other? Hermione wouldn't accept anything less; she would get those two to together eventually.

Then her Christmas presents were….disappointing was putting it nicely; the jumper from Molly was expected as were the sweets. The book from Sirius was nothing if not insulting. Harry was just as bad, having had the audacity to give her a tube of magical make-up! As if she would ever use such a thing. Her skin was perfect, she never ate sweets so she had no pimples (that she would admit to), she wasn't some shallow cow like Lavender and Parvati! Sure, there had been those couple of times she a borrowed a little bit of it, but not without reason, she really didn't need it. Ron had given her a pack of sugar quills and Ginny a book of parchment, that was beautifully bound and spelled so you could add additional pages as needed. She had seen the same one in the shop at Hogsmeade for a sickle! A sickle was all she was worth to them. And after she had given them those study planners, sure she found them in the throw out bin at Flourish and Blotts for five knuts, but she had done all that extra work adding to them and her time was worth something. Harry needed to know what the assignments were for Divination after all and he should have been grateful for it. To add insult to injury they didn't even wait for her to come down before unwrapping the presents! They were ungrateful pigs the lot of them.

Infuriatingly Percival and Harry's stints of disappearing had also started up again but this time they were joined by Ron! She was desperately curious to know where they were going and what they were doing, but she never managed to catch them at it. Not only that but Ronald had started disappearing with Bill as well. Initially she had thought that Ron was just building up the courage to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with him, but Christmas had come and gone and so had the New Year and he had done nothing. It had all been a very disappointing really, though it was probably understandable. Ron had always felt second best, to his brothers and to Harry, she just needed to give him time. If push came to shove, she would have to ask him out, even though it rankled. Then she would have words to him, about how he should treat his beau. In fact maybe she should talk to him about that first, and it might prompt him into action. Or she could just re-make the Amortentia, it wasn't that difficult after all.

With a groan Hermione pushed those thoughts aside, rolled over and went to sleep, completely forgetting that she had locked the door. Fortunately, the others all spent another night camping out on floor in the parlour, so no one noticed.

Unexpectedly Severus Snape visited Grimmauld place one last time before they went back to school. It was the last night of the holidays when Molly had come up to the boy's bedroom to tell Harry the Professor was waiting to speak to him. So, he made his way down to the Parlour.

"What's this about Professor," Harry asked as the elder man joined him.

"Two things. The first is that Black briefly mentioned the potion that Miss Granger was making, as I came up. I will discuss it in more detail with him later. For now, I wanted to know your thoughts on the matter."

"Professor, I honestly don't think that she was making it for me. I think she was making it for Ron," Harry voiced his concern.

"Why?"

"Well, due to recent events, Ron has asked for advice from Bill. They have been meeting fairly regularly over the holidays and she kept commenting that Ron was going to ask her out. That he just doesn't know how to ask. Then he obviously didn't give her the gift she was expecting at Christmas. So she made some comments about a kiss to see in the New Year, that didn't happen either. She hasn't said anything yet, but I know she's disappointed. We are all waiting for the explosion."

There was that twitch again, "What has Black advised."

"That it doesn't matter who she was making the potions for we should all be careful and we should watch out for each other, especially for sudden changes in behaviour. If we see any we are to head to the infirmary or to see you immediately. If neither option is available, we are to contact Sirius via any means. In the meantime we are all, including Ron to practice our Occlumency so that we don't ….you know, make it worse when she eventually…well blows."

The snort that issued from Snape was that much more amusing because it was so unexpected. "So, the mutt can think after all. You are right to think that she might not have been crafting it for you. There are so many ways it could be used to manipulate any one of your friends and thus you." He took a breath and his whole demeanour changed slightly to be more like the stiff, stoic man they saw in class, "The second thing I wished to discuss is that the Headmaster wishes for me to give you weekly Occlumency lessons, to achieve this I will let it be known that you are receiving remedial potions. Remember who I am and do not complain about it." Snape said firmly as Harry opened his mouth to say he was improving. "We will review the techniques that it was assumed you learnt through the reading material in first year. I will expect you to pass the knowledge on to the others in your house. Once everyone is performing at an acceptable standard, we will move on to more advanced techniques. I will not go easy on you Potter; I can not be seen to be weak."

"Thank you, Sir I understand, and I appreciate the time that you're putting into this. I promise, I'll help the others."

"I will tell the Headmaster that you protested and but agreed in the end."

Harry nodded very glad he wasn't in Snape's position.

"See you at school Sir."

"What did the greasy bat want?" Ron asked as Harry entered the kitchen.

"Dumbledore wants him to give me special lessons when we get back to school," Harry said obtusely.

"It's Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry," Hermione said primly, in such a way that Harry braced himself for the following lecture. He wasn't disappointed. "I'm sure if the Headmaster has suggested the lessons then they must be important. He only has your best interest at heart Harry. I know you don't get along with Professor Snape, but you'll have to just put up with the way that he treats you I'm afraid. Dumbledore is a great Wizard, and if he trusts Professor Snape then you have no reason not to. Actually, maybe you should apologise to him for your behaviour, you know that you haven't always behaved the best in class. So really it is kind of your own fault….."

Somewhere along the way Harry tuned out and started paying attention to the gentle feel of Percival's hand resting on his lower back, and the warmth of the teacup in his hand. He wondered, if he could work on his Occlumency while things like this were going on, it would be a surely be a more efficient use of the time and might stop him from blowing up at Hermione. He settled his mind, drawing the feeling of flight around him.

The hand on his back pressed in slightly, and a voice murmured in his ear, "You might need more practice before using Occlumency that way. At the moment, you look like you are about to start drooling any second." Harry giggled, which of course drew Hermione's attention.

"Are you even listening to me Harry?" Hermione snapped.

"Do as I'm told, apologise to Snape, put up with his bad behaviour and do what Dumbledore says because he knows best," he said obediently. His innocent demeanour was spoiled somewhat when he added cheekily, "How'd I do?"

"Four from four," Ron congratulated with a smirk, over Hermione's huff, reaching out to give Harry a high five.

For once they were nearly the first to arrive at the train station. Their prompt departure from Grimmauld place had been facilitated by Sirius standing near each of the Weasleys and summoning all of their belongings, Percival and Harry did their own, then shrinking each of their trunks and sticking them to the side table in the hall until everyone was ready. It was only ten fifteen and the platform was empty of all bar the conductor and the lady who pushed the snack trolley. Harry, Percival and Ginny were sitting, with their luggage in their pockets once more, in a carriage playing exploding snap. Ron and Hermione had sent a quick note to the Head Boy and Girl the day before advising that they would be on the train and available for duties if required and had drifted off to wait in the prefects carriage. Ron had given the others a very clear, you owe me glance as they parted. Fred and George had left the group to settle in a carriage of their own as soon as they had climbed on board.

Around half past ten Neville joined them, and it was only because Harry was keeping a watch through the glass on the door that they spotted Luna and opened the door for her. With a circular motion of his left-hand Harry beckoned her into the carriage.

"Hmm, you seem to have less wrackspurts Harry, you must have had a good Christmas," Luna said dreamily by way of greeting. "Oh, I see, Stubby Broadman gave you presents that's what chase them all away."

After a brief moment of confusion Harry figured that she must have seen his ring. "Yeah, he made it all official. He couldn't do it before, while…well while the ministry was looking for him."

Neville looked between them confused.

"Sirius presented Harry with the Black Heir ring." Percival said.

"But, wasn't he already the Heir? I'm sure that was what Harry said, just after Sirius' trail."

"Yes," Percival agreed. "That was what was listed in Sirius' will, apparently it specifically stated that if Sirius were to pass without issue, then the Lordship would pass to his Godson. He decided to take it the step further and give him the Heir ring."

"Wow," Neville turned to Harry with a grin. "You know what that means Harry? You have a father!"

"I….I hadn't thought of it that way." Harry seemed awe struck. "I was stuck on the idea that he thought of me as his son and that after this he wouldn't change his mind." He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "A Dad! I've always wondered what it was like to have one," Percival gave Harry a one-armed hug. "Oh Neville!" now there were visible tears in Harry's eyes. "I didn't mean… Oh I'm sorry…."

Harry threw himself at Neville and hugged him tight, muttering further apologies, before getting embarrassed and withdrawing to his seat next to Percival.

"It's alright Harry, I know what you meant. I sometimes feel the same way and wish I had a dad, but then I feel guilty because well I do, it's just that… I know that they love me, but it's more an idea rather than an experience, you know?"

"Sometimes," Harry looked back with emotion filled eyes. "Sometimes I'm not sure which of us has it worse. To have them there and be able to see them and…..I don't think I would survive it. You're much braver then I am Neville." He swallowed roughly and ducked his head, not looking at the furiously blushing Neville.

After a moment of awkward silence Harry cleared his throat and spoke again, changing the subject, "Oh, before I forget." He reached into his bag and pulled out two brightly wrapped boxes. He passed one to each of the friends he hadn't see at Christmas saying, "It isn't much, but I made this for you."

"Oh," Luna seemed unsure of what to do. "What…um Harry?" She glanced up from the happily wrapped box in confusion.

"It's a present for Yule," he said gently.

"For me?" Harry nodded.

"Oh," she said dreamily. "I wonder if this is what almost having friends feels like?"

"Luna," Neville said softly, reaching into his bag, and withdrawing a present of his own. "This is also for you and it isn't_ almost like_ having friends. It _is_ having friends."

"Really," she uncrossed her eyes and stared at him, strangely serious.

"Really really," he and Harry said in chorus.

Neville then passed Harry a present as well.

"Thanks Neville, I wasn't expecting anything," Harry said as he took it, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a photograph, with a picture of their parents in it, Lily and Alice standing in the middle each holding a child in their arms with Frank and James waving happily at the camera.

"I'm sorry Harry, I don't know when that was taken or the story behind it," Neville apologised.

"It…it doesn't matter. Do you think Sirius would know? I could ask him tonight?" Harry replied with a smile, starring at the smiling group. "Um, here…." Harry said as a thought occurred to him. He pulled out the copy of the photo of the Order of the Phoenix that Mad Eye had given him and cast the Gemini charm, giving the newly created copy to Neville. "I should have thought of it sooner. The story behind most of the other people is a bit…like my parents really," he grimaced. "So, I won't tell you now, but I will tell you later in private, I promise."

Both boys looked at their photos for a long time, before putting them away carefully with deep sighs.

Anyone watching would have seen that both boys were in a hurry to get back to their dormitory that night. They had already wheedled the password out Ron and disappeared out of the hall before the desserts had even been cleared from the table, practically running the whole way through the castle.

"Sirius?" Harry called as he pulled the mirror out of his bag.

There was a slight delay in which Harry called another three times.

"Hey, Harry. You seem in a hurry tonight, surely the feast isn't even over yet?"

With a shake of his head, Harry dismissed the question, "Do you know about this?" Harry waved the photo frame in front of the mirror.

"Hold it still. I can't see it with it wobbling around all over the place like that," Sirius chided in an amused tone, that Harry refused to take notice of and waggled the photo around even more, with a laugh. "Come on, Prongslet. I mean it."

"Alright," Harry stilled, and held the photo up facing the mirror.

"Oh! Now doesn't that bring back memories."

"Can you tell us what it is? Neville gave it to me for Christmas and he didn't know."

"Ah, of course Neville's Grandmother wouldn't have been there. That was at your combined Godparent's ceremony."

"Really?" Harry looked away from the mirror. "Neville, come on, hurry up and get over here!" Harry patted the bed next to himself and the now pyjama clad boy obliged. When he was seated next to Harry, they pulled the curtains shut around the bed, cast one of the privacy charms Percival had taught them and then dark-haired boy looked back at his Godfather.

"Hello there Neville,"

"Hi Lord Black."

"Please, it is Sirius," the man snorted. "I actually took that photo," Sirius started proudly. "There weren't many of us there. At the time if word of any sort of celebration got out, then the Death Eaters were sure to visit, so it was kept small out of necessity. Only Frank, Alice, Lily James, Caradoc Dearborn, who was your father's best friend Neville, and myself were there. It's a pity so few of us could attend, or I might have someone to witness for me."

Neville nodded his understanding.

"It had taken the combined efforts of both Lily and Alice to convince the rest of us to go through with it. James was just going to nominate Alice and myself as your Godparent's in his will and leave the ceremony until after the war, but Lily was not having a bar of it. Alice was the same. I believe it is the only time I ever saw your parent's row, Neville. Frank called it an old-fashioned idea. Lily had come across it in one of the old books she used to read and got it into her head that it was what she wanted for her son. That it would make you safer. She spoke to Alice and that was it. At the end of the day there was never a chance that James or Frank were going to persuade the girls otherwise. They started planning it before you were even born, as they wanted it to happen on the first new moon after."

There was a misty look in Sirius' eyes as he remembered. Just when they thought he wasn't going to say anymore, he cleared his throat, "You were both a week old, and we all gathered at Longbottom Manor. There was a little gazebo out the back of the manor. I do not know if it would still be there Neville, but Lily and Alice carved the runes into the supporting beams. Your parents were planning to have the Fidelius cast the next day. It was actually the perfect day for it, the sun was out but it wasn't too hot. Frank and Alice started by purifying the area with white sage. Then they, Lily and Caradoc, moved to stand under the pergola. Just beside it was an enormous oak tree, James and I stood under it holding Harry while we waited. At least that was the plan, you see Harry wasn't happy to be left out, and Apparated straight into his Mother's arms in the middle of the ceremony. It caused quite a fuss, with Alice and Lily fretting that the whole thing had been spoiled, but they continued with the ceremony. Lily looked into it later and no harm was caused in the end, Harry just added his magic to the ritual. When they had finished, Doc and Frank left the circle and James and I entered it."

"Can you tell us more about the ritual?" Harry asked.

"Well, first of all you were held by James, who asked for magic to bless you, then he passed you to your Mum. After that she turned to me and asked if I promised on my Magic and Blood to protect you for all of my life. I said yes, cut the index finger of my left hand and placed a drop of my blood on your forehead, Alice then did the same. It was an amazing feeling, there was a connection that I felt to you…" He frowned, "It's a bit weird, I felt that connection for several weeks and then one day after an Order Meeting it just sort of disappeared. I think it was the meeting where James and Lily told Dumbledore about me being your Godfather." He absentmindedly rubbed his sternum, "It's back now though." Sirius looked at Harry solemnly not wanting to say what he was thinking out loud in front of Neville.

"Sounds like Dumbledore did something," Neville muttered.

"Ah…." Harry stuttered a bit.

"It's alright Harry. I've kept working at my Occlumency and even had Gran test me. She was surprised, I can tell you. To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about Dumbledore at the moment. He seems to have made some very dubious decisions." Neville screwed up his face. "Over the holidays Gran told me that he was my parent's secret keeper and he released the Fidelius not even five days after Riddle was gone the first time. He didn't even tell Mum and Dad; they had no warning. She visited them just after it was removed, and they were surprised to see her because they thought it was still in place and she hadn't known the secret. Why would he release it, when it was known that there were still Death Eaters about?"

"That's…." Harry stared at his friend, horror in his green eyes. "Do you think he meant for them….?"

"I don't know," Neville said softly, "but I know I want to find out. If it was a deliberate act, then I will ensure he pays!" It was a promise.

"Thanks for telling us Sirius," Harry said.

"That's alright. You can ask me anything, I might not always know the answer. What I do know I'll tell you and what I don't…..I'll make up," he grinned. "No, really, I'll try and find out."

"But I have so many questions," Harry admitted insecurely. "I…at Aunt Petunia's I wasn't allowed to ask questions so…." Harry shrugged.

"You know Percival would get mad at you for that," Neville, nudged his friend with his shoulder.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Harry," Sirius said, regaining their attention. "One question tonight, then either write a list and call me every night until we are through them or write them down and send them through your post box."

"Oh, I keep forgetting about that!" Harry grimaced, hoping that Striknott hadn't sent him anything recently.

"Well, make sure you check it regularly, and by that, I mean at least once a day Harry. You don't want to annoy the Goblins," he warned.

"I'll remind him," Neville offered.

"Thanks Neville. One question now Harry, then off to bed, you don't want to be tired for your first day of classes."

"I've been thinking about this for a while. When I first went to the Goblins, they said that I was the Head of House Potter, right?"

"That's right."

"Well, is there a ring that I should be wearing for the Potter's as well?"

"Ah, no ring I'm afraid Harry."

"Why? Isn't it the same thing?"

"There is a lot of family history in the answer," Sirius warned. "I have to ask if you are happy for Neville to hear it?

"Yes," Harry nodded decisively. He would tell Ron and Percival himself later, but it was nice to have something to share with Neville.

"Ok then, the answer is both yes and no," looking at the grumpy kitten impression going on in the mirror, Sirius couldn't help but smile. "Let me explain, I remember Fleamont telling James the story when we were about thirteen. You remember what I said about family magics?" He waited for Harry to nod. "Right so way back, when Britain was just a random collection of villages spread out over the countryside, magic came into the world. A number of families, including yours and the Longbottoms too, discovered magic and did what they could to help her to grow, for which they were rewarded. Every family that helped then was nominated as a House with the eldest person being the Head of the House. Got that?" He waited for the boys to nod.

"Over time, one family rose above all the others. They were stronger in magic and they were rich. In the end they protected magic in a way that made her reward them even further. The Head of that family became our King. Things went on for a while and as happens there were various challenges that faced the Monarchy, various families helped the Royal family out and they were rewarded. These families were elevated to what we now call the Peerage. For a long time, the Potters were on the cusp of being elevated, though they were always declined. You see they helped the magical and the non-magical alike and the Monarchy frowned on that because it was Magic that had placed them in the position that they held. One day there was a famine in the land. The Potter's being the merchants that they were, had large storehouses full of all sorts of goods, including food. The Head of the House at the time was Belvedere Potter. The King demanded that the Potter's turn over all their goods so that he could use them. Belvedere said no that he had been visited by an otherworldly being who had requested that they store these goods to help the country last through this time. Even in the face of being offered elevation to the Peerage, he still said no. You see was well past his first century when this all occurred, and he watched over the years three kings come and go. In his opinion the Monarchy was a disgrace and the King would keep the goods for himself and his court leaving nothing for anyone else. Because of his refusal the King cursed the Potter's to never be accepted into the Peerage. Despite this Belvedere kept watch over the goods and made sure they were distributed amongst the people fairly."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yes, though that isn't quite the end of the story. I believe magic wasn't impressed with the King and his curse. She judged him and found him wanting. Don't get me wrong the curse came true, but it came true through the ending of the Monarchy. The famine went on for five years, and through it all the Potter's ensured that everyone was feed, from the lowest field hand to the highest ranking official. As often happened, illness followed on the heals of the plague, and in the Royal house every single member was struck down. The Potter's continued helping the community, so when the families in the Peerage gathered to appoint a new King there was an uprising of the people. They would not allow a single family to be raised above all others again, from this the Wizengamot was born. All the Ancient and Noble families were given seats, but significant members of society were given seats as well, including the Potters. So to answer the question, every Wizarding family that was around then and blessed by magic, has a Head of the House, with the oldest child being the heir, however only those in the Peerage have fancy rings to show for it as these were commissioned by the King at the time of the family's elevation."

"It's all so complicated," Harry sighed. "But I don't think I mind, I'd rather my ancestor helped everybody."

"You are already a better man then your father," Sirius smiled. "Not that he didn't get there in the end, but I must admit, when he was thirteen, he was an arrogant sod. I wasn't much better."

"But you are now and that's what is important," Harry smiled.

"Right you are kiddo. That's enough talking for tonight. Off to bed the pair of you."

"Night Sirius."

It appeared a lot had changed at Hogwarts during the school Holidays. Probably because they had been in their own little bubble and had not noticed the small notice in the Daily Prophet each day that held the new Ministerial Decree that Umbridge had decided to impose. Now they could see them posted on the wall leading into the Great Hall.

It started with; no students being allowed to be within six inches of another. There were measuring tapes floating around the castle charmed to measure the distance between two people whenever they stopped for long enough. If they were too close, they would shoot a stinging hex at both. Unfortunately, they did not discriminate between students and the adults in the castle, so Bathsheba Babbling and Aurora Sinistra were not impressed. Harry was considering giving them Samuel McMillan's details.

Next had been the decree that any student found in possession of sweets from unauthorised suppliers would be expelled. There were great many students now in possession of small sample boxes of Fred and Georges sweets which they used to skive off Umbridge's classes. However as Ron pointed out to Hermione who thought this decree was a good thing, it did not specify any 'authorised supplies' so therefore it must refer to all sweets, in which case the whole school, from third year up, would likely be expelled after the next Hogsmeade weekend. Which neither the Board of Governors not the Wizengamut was going to allow. With his eye for the finer details on things Harry was beginning to wonder if Ron would make a good Law Wizard, though he probably would not like the paperwork.

Obviously, someone had been complaining about Flitwick's Toad choir and various musical ensembles, who commonly practiced a great deal over the holidays, or perhaps Umbridge wasn't a music fan, as there was also a decree forbidding the playing of music during study hours. Though it could also have been in a response to a prank that Fred and George had set off two days before the holidays when they had charmed several of the paintings to sing rudely re-worded Christmas carols, throughout the evening.

And the latest one posted on the evening before school came back stated that the High Inquisitor had been given ultimate authority in matters of punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges with regards to the students and the ability to alter those same punishments if placed by another staff member. Harry read it with a sense of foreboding. Clearly whatever Umbridge had been trying to do at Hogwarts so far had not been successful and now she was trying to force the issue.

Harry sighed as he walked into the Great Hall, for breakfast the first day back, giving a small nod to Blaise Zabini who was sat at the Slytherin table, and a wave to Luna who glanced up from where she was reading her book. He wondered if he should buck the trend and try sitting with her. A gentle shove on his back in the direction of Gryffindor was enough to get him moving. Perce was right, now was probably not the time. Not with Umbridge interfering in detentions.

He glanced up at the teachers table, and there she was the devil herself, smugly smiling down on them all. He noticed she now sat right next to Dumbledore in the position usually reserved for McGonagall. Her new chair was nearly as throne like as Dumbledore's own.

Harry made it back up to the dorm and fell onto his bed, not wanting to move another muscle. It had taken all of his energy to not rise to the Umbridge's baiting today.

"Don't get too comfortable," Neville warned.

"Why not? I'm tired Nev," Harry whined.

'First, if you didn't want to be tired, you shouldn't have stayed up talking to your Godfather so long last night. Second of all you promised that same man that you would check your mailbox today. And thirdly, if you leave your homework for later, you'll only end up doing it at the last moment in a rush and Percival will give you that disappointed look, that you hate."

Harry threw his pillow at Neville, who caught it swung it round and hit Harry over the head with it.

"If you're goin' to have a pillow fight 'Arry, you should invite everyone," Seamus said entering the room with Dean, batting the next pillow, which Neville had knocked aside, to the side with one hand.

"Sorry Seamus, Nev's just being a twit," Harry grinned.

"Am not!" Neville jumped up on the bed and began to wrestle Harry, quickly pinning him down. "Do you give?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Fine, I give," Harry conceded. "Seriously when did you become such a behemoth? It's like you grew twenty feet since last year."

"And you are still a short arse!" Neville teased, moving over to his own bed.

"Oi! I grew!" Harry protested.

"Yeah like two inches," Seamus laughed.

"I don't think you can talk Seamus," Dean, slapped the shorter boy on the arm.

"Still taller than 'Arry!"

"Alright, what is this pick on Harry day?"

"Pretty much," Seamus shrugged. "I'm tryin' not to think about that stupid essay for defence or what sort of Detentions Umbridge gives."

All the boys nodded.

"Come on, we know she's not going to mark us properly anyway, so we can probably get it out of the way before dinner. Then we can go to the rec room after," Harry suggested. They all gathered up their books, and Harry stayed behind as they headed to the common room, giving a brief nod to Neville on his way through the door.

Harry reached into the hidden compartment on his trunk and pulled out his mailbox, wincing when he noticed the glow. A moment later he held a letter in his hand, fortunately it was only two days old. A quick slice with the letter opener broke the seal, and he unfolded the parchment.

As suspected the money that was supposed to have been sent to his Aunt for his upkeep had been going into another account. The account of an Ariana Peverell. While the goblins were still investigating, they believed that this may have been an account used by Albus Dumbledore as his sister had been named Ariana. The money of course had been transferred out of that account, but they had traced it through another three accounts and believed that they were on the cusp of discovering its final destination. At which point they could take steps to retrieve it. They were no closer to discovering who had harmed the Potter's previous accountant but had discovered that he had been under the Imperius curse and had been both Confunded and Obliviated multiple times. He had now been quietly retired to the Goblin equivalent of the secure ward at St Mungo's.

Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and quill from the pile he had prepared for his homework and wrote a quick reply. A random thought had him adding a small postscript, asking who he should contact to search out his missing mail. He wasn't sure if it would be something that the Goblins would take care of or maybe Samuel Macmillan his lawyer. At the very least surely the Goblins would know who he should talk to about it. He wondered how much mail was actually sitting there after all these years, surely not that much, after all he was just Harry.

The next Order meeting occurred a week after school went back. Sirius decided that things had gone on too long. Dumbledore had been very evasive, and not answering any questions about Remus. Regardless of anything else Remus was still his friend. Sirius waited until there was a lull in the discussion.

"Albus, have you heard from Remus at all? He had promised to be back in time to celebrate Yule because he knew how much it meant to Harry and it is unlike him to miss a date and not write or otherwise let me know."

"No," Albus replied smoothly. "I've not heard anything from him. Though I wouldn't worry, I expect that whatever it is he is doing is just taking a little longer than expected."

The statement rang all sorts of alarms in Sirius' head. "Are you saying that he isn't on an Order mission Albus?"

"Oh, good heavens no," Albus chuckled jovially. "The boy told me that he was going looking for work for a few weeks, before the children came back from school. Perhaps he found some work and then couldn't get leave for the holidays at such short notice."

"I would have thought he would have told me if it was that," Sirius challenged, he noticed that a few of the others were listening in now. There was no point on calling Dumbledore out on his lie. After all everyone in the room had been quite willing to believe that Sirius would turn on his best friend, so they weren't going to believe what he said over what Dumbledore did now. No, it was better that he just drew their attention to the fact that Remus was missing, and Dumbledore wasn't going to do anything about it. If Remus didn't show up, then they would all have been witness to the Headmasters statements. "The only time he has ever gone off without letting me know was when he was on Order missions."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you," Dumbledore shrugged benignly. "I haven't sent him anywhere. Maybe if you two had more faith in each other the first time around, he would feel more comfortable talking to you now. It is hardly my fault Remus doesn't talk to you like he used to." Dumbledore thought, if he managed to played this just right, he could get rid of two ….well dogs….with one stone, and without even a shadow of blame being cast on himself. "Though by all means if you are worried about him, go and find him." He smiled genially, it made Sirius' hackles rise.

Sirius realised that further questioning was not going to get him anywhere, so just nodded as if accepting the Headmaster's statement and allowed the meeting to continue around him, paying no attention to the conversation. Why would Albus deny that he had sent Remus anywhere? What would that achieve? Surely, he knew that Remus had come and spoken to Sirius before he left? What was he hoping to get out of Sirius going to find Remus? Really there was only one thing; Harry. With both Sirius and Remus out of the way he would have greater access to Harry again. Though that would still be extremely difficult with Seraphina and Percival in the picture, so he must have a plan for them as well. He made a note to talk to Seraphina about it. Hopefully Remus had just gotten held up and he was worrying over nothing. Otherwise Sirius just hoped that Remus remembered and was able to use the portkey. Sirius decided that if Remus hadn't been in contact by next week, he would consider going out after him, though he would take all precautions because it was as clear as the nose on Snape's face that, that was exactly what Dumbledore wanted him to do.

As the meeting was winding down, Sirius decided that he should bring up the latest incident by Miss Granger. If he did it in front of everyone else then there would be no place for the Headmaster to hide, he wouldn't be able to cover it up and at the least she would get some kind of punishment, apart from what he had imposed himself. Sirius wondered what her parents would have thought of it all, were they like Fleamont and Euphemia who would implement a harsher punishment for James at home or were they like Abraxas and Callidora Malfoy who always believed that Lucius could do no wrong regardless of the evidence.

"Albus, before we finish there was something else, I wished to discuss. You need to have a word with Hermione. Snape, I think you should aware of it so that you can keep a closer eye on her as well." Sirius knew that Harry had already spoken with Snape but the more witnesses he drew in the better.

"Why would I care what one of Minerva's lions has been up to? Surely, she can keep an eye on them herself," Snape griped, ensuring that the whole group was now paying attention including Minerva.

"I'll skip over her poor manners and move right on to the fact that she has been brewing illegal potions, Snape," Sirius said bluntly. "And stealing potions ingredients to do so."

"Really you are behind the times, Black. I believe it was in her second year that she brewed polyjuice potion, in a lavatory no less, and she didn't just owl order hose ingredients I can tell you. The Headmaster was well aware and failed to step in or provide any discipline at all. It's only by luck that the potions were mostly successful. I don't see why this should be any different."

Sirius acknowledged the statement, nodding as if he agreed with Dumbledore, "Polyjuice which is a regulated potion, yes, but not actually illegal. I caught her in the basement brewing Amortentia."

"Really," Dumbledore huffed. "All this fuss over a little love potion? I seem to recall you brewing something similar in your sixth year." What had the girl been thinking? He honestly couldn't see how a love potion was going to help with the task he had given her and getting caught while brewing it was hardly subtle.

"I only brewed a weak version of the Amorcresceret potion as well you know. It only exaggerates emotions that are already there and only lasted for an hour. The romance that lead to several longstanding marriages was initiated that Valentine's day. Including some of your current staff members I might add. I wasn't trying to trap some unsuspecting individual in a relationship, which we all know is the best of what Amortentia is used for. I was providing some Dutch courage to friends who needed a good kick up the…." Minerva McGonagall coughed pointedly. "Sorry, who needed some encouragement to speak up for what they wanted."

"Oh dear, I think this might be my fault," Molly blushed, drawing everyone's attention. She had of course been there when Sirius had removed Hermione from the potions room practically at wand point, but he had been tight lipped about what he had found her brewing. And now that it had come out what the silly girl had been brewing, she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"You encouraged her to brew illegal love potions," Arthur gasped.

"Well, no…um yes….oh dear…maybe."

"I think they need to hear the whole story, mum," Bill said, quite sure he knew where this was going, having heard the tale before.

"Well, you know Ginny is fourteen this year, so not knowing what …um education Hermione has had I took the girls aside and had a little conversation with them about…growing up. During the conversation I mentioned that I gave Arthur a little love potion because he was so shy, and I knew he liked me, but he hadn't asked me to go out with him. I said it was just a little prompt to actually get him to overcome his nerves and make a move. I didn't mention which potion it was! I just didn't think that either of the girls would think it could possibly be Amortentia. It was of course Amorcresceret, and I told Arthur I had done it on our first date."

Arthur reached over and squeezed her hand, "Always the impatient one weren't you Molly. I had been planning on asking her out of course, but couldn't decide which day would be best, the next Hogsmeade weekend or the following one which was on Valentine's day. I had thought she might appreciate the romance of waiting. I'm sure you didn't mean to mislead the girls love. You'll just need to have a conversation with them to clear up the details, make sure you emphasis that Amortentia doesn't generate real love."

"Yes, well, now if that's sorted," Albus clapped his hands together, feeling grateful that Tonks and Moody were both currently on shift, the last thing he needed was this being bought to the attention of the Aurors, both of them were sticklers for following the rules. They weren't expected tonight and with any luck everyone would have forgotten by the next meeting. "I'd really like to try a piece of that chocolate sponge cake you made Molly."

Sirius' eyes meet with Snape's and he nodded towards the staircase that led to the parlour, as the others all started passing around the various desserts. He had only taken two steps towards the door when there was a flash from the floo and Moody stepped out, still in his Auror robes, straight from his shift.

"Thought I'd come get the next roster before flooing home," he announced when he noticed everyone staring at him. "Won't stay long."

Dumbledore was just about to step in and distract the man when Molly did it for him.

"We've just put dessert out," Molly said. "Have a cuppa before you go." After that they were all nattering and with a sigh of relief the Headmaster realised it appeared that no one was going to bring the matter up.

Perched on the edge of the desk Sirius waited for Snape to arrive, knowing that the spy would take care to ensure that no-one knew they were meeting. He reached into a cabinet behind the desk and withdrew a bottle of fire whiskey and two glasses, pouring a finger of the amber liquid into each glass and setting them on the side table.

"You have a reason for this clandestine meeting Mutt?"

"Ah….yes. Um, here," Sirius offered the potions master one of the glasses and was unsurprised to see the man wave his wand over it a few times before taking a sip.

"What is the occasion?"

"There isn't one!"

"Come, you surely don't expect me to believe that you would invite me in here just to share a glass of fire whiskey," he swirled the liquid in the glass, watching it carefully, "which I notice is not that Ogden's slop you keep in the kitchen for the others, for no reason? I am no fool."

"No, you're certainly not," Sirius muttered. "I'm offering you a drink, because I need one and I thought it would be rude not to share." He sighed and moved to sit in one of the high-backed chairs. "I'm not sure what I expected Dumbledore to do about Hermione. I mean, I knew it would not be much, maybe a detention or something but…..this. S…Snape, she brewed Amortentia, its dangerous, people have used it to ra…...well I am sure you know. It wasn't even brewed correctly. I know I am not a Master potioneer like you, but even I could the smell from it was…..it was wrong."

"You think she was planning to poison your Godson?"

"It would not be the first time; however, I am not sure. She didn't believe it was brewed incorrectly at all. In fact, she was quite upset when I even suggested it. However, the fact remains though that whoever she gave it to would have become very unwell. No, I believe she thought she would be helping someone fall in love. She seems to be growing more delusion. Though Harry said he told you that he thinks she was intending to use to on Ron."

"Why Ronald though?" Snape sipped his whiskey.

"That was what I thought as well. Harry was right in saying that she has been moping about because the boy hasn't asked her out, but I am unsure. I just cannot see her using it on him or Harry either, not to make either lust after her. T doesn't seem like something she would want. Maybe she wasn't going to use it on Harry alone."

"Not Ronald, but perhaps Miss Weasley?" Snape gazed at the swirling amber liquid in his glass.

"It's possible, I suppose, Ginny doesn't seem to be all that interested in Harry anymore. It could be used as a distraction….but for what? Even if she gave it to both of them, what does it actually achieve?"

"I will monitor the situation, though be aware, given who I am there is much that I don't see."

"I..um, also realised something else."

"What?"

"Well I know I have already apologised for my previous behaviour. But I never really understood why you were always so angry, when we did get punished. Thinking about how Dumbledore would punish Hermione, well, it made me realise how different things were for us. I find that I am sorry for that too. It will not make it any better, but so that you know, for every punishment we got at school, Euphemia and Fleamont, punished us exponentially worse when we got home."

"Good!"

"I was wondering, if you had access to Hermione's records? Do you think someone should speak to Miss Granger's parents about this? Not just this incident but it's possible that there is actually something wrong with her and it might be wise to have her reviewed by a Healer, other than Madam Pomphrey, which would require her parent's approval."

"I doubt that Dumbledore will allow it, now that Molly seems to be taking the blame, not to mention school is not currently in session. However, I will speak to Minerva. Should another infraction occur I will ensure that someone discusses the matter with her parent's. I believe Minerva is disgruntled enough with Dumbledore that she may listen to reason, especially if there other signs that the girl may not be….well."

The Potions Master wondered how much the man in front of him had really changed. It was odd. The new thoughtful attitude that he was displaying seemed to be present consistently now, perhaps there was something to be said for mind healing after all.

"Thank you, Snape."

"Well if you have finished off-loading your emotional luggage I had best get back to the school," Snape placed his glass back on the table and stalked out the door.

Sirius leaned against the desk again with a sigh. He picked up his glass and downed the amber liquid in a gulp before grabbing the last lonely present from under the tree and jogging down the stairs.

"Before you go Moody!" Sirius called to the gnarled Auror, who was just standing up in preparation to leave. "Harry was deeply touched by your present. He left one for you. Test it all you want but be a bit careful they are a bit fragile." Sirius handed over a wrapped box and card.

Moody just grunted and made his way to the floo disappearing into the flames. Nobody saw him appear in his own fireplace and scrub a calloused hand across his face as he read the card. That boy! The gingerbread was truly delicious.

It felt like an age since Remus had last seen light. True sunlight that was not just the little chinks that managed to creep their way through the windows and filter down through the hay bales. He wasn't sure but it had to be coming up to the full moon. What on earth did they have planned for him? Not the biggest man at the best of times, due to his inability to hold down a job, he was now rail thin. The man holding him here, Derren he had learned, had laughed as he had provided him with a dinner of dead rats. More fool him because Remus wasn't fussy, after all even Sirius had survived months on only rats. He just needed to get his hands free for a moment, the problem was with the way they were tied together he couldn't place a hand over the bracelet Sirius had provided to activate it. He had struggled all of the first day after he had woken up in that freezing cold barn, trying to find a way to make it work, and had been left with nothing to show for it except bleeding wrists.

Hopefully ….he didn't know what he hoped for any more. A chance to make it up to Harry maybe. Or perhaps just a chance to escape. As usual at this time of day the door, rolled to the side and Derren appeared silhouetted against the light, but there was someone with him. A much larger man. One inhalation proved who it was by the rancid smell of his unwashed body…Fenrir Greyback.

"You've got some guts turning up here dog," he spat. There was no real reply that Remus could give to that. "On your feet."

The big man didn't give Remus a chance to stand before he reached out and grabbed hold of the rope tying Remus' hands, roughly hauling him to his feet. A moment later as his vision was suddenly filled with a fist, Remus felt a sharp pain as the knuckles hit his face and split his lip. Without a break, a second hit had him stumbling backwards but he refused to groan.

"Always thought you were better than us didn't ya," Greyback seemed amused as he stalked around the blonde. "Look at ya now," he grinned. "Pathetic, barely on your feet. If you had lived the life with us, you would be strong like me!" He reached out and jerked Remus' head backwards by the hair, arching his back, and pressing a foot into the back of the leg, forcing him to his knees, with a thud. "It's so easy to bring ya to ya knees." He shoved the kneeling man roughly. With his hands tied behind him there was nothing Remus could do to prevent himself from falling forward. His nose broke with a crack. Greyback just laughed and pulled Remus by his bindings back onto his knees, blood pouring down his chin. There was the schnick of a blade being drawn, and fear gripped Remus. He closed his eyes and prayed that Death would guide him to the afterlife. To where Lily and James were waiting for him. He just hoped that they weren't too disappointed in him. He hoped Sirius and Harry would forgive him.

"All those years ago, I gave you a gift. We are a free people and here you are trying to make us slaves to the wizards."

"No!" Remus rasped out. "That's not why I am here."

"Ha!" Greyback chortled, "Liar. It's too late to change your tune now."

Remus shook his head, wincing at the pain. "It's been pointed out that Dumbledore has nothing to offer us. The chance he gave to me, he doesn't give to everyone. I…I have been telling the tribes to get to safety."

"Safety?" Greyback snorted. "You think that he will let you go.'

Despite the pain, Remus shook his head again, "Me. No he won't let me go. I believe that everyone else has a chance."

Head tipped to the side the Alpha male considered the wolf before him. "Interesting." He held the knife by its point and released it with a flick. It glinted in the light. Remus did not flinch.

Albus looked at the girl over the tips of his fingers, elbows resting on his desk.

"Tell me, what exactly were you thinking?" he asked voice all icy shards. "You can not get caught making such a thing it is illegal."

"At first, I was going to give just a little to Ginny, she always liked Harry you know. I knew she really wouldn't mind, and they would make the perfect couple. It's kind of romantic if you think about it. Besides I thought it would provide me with an opening, as his only female friend, Harry would turn to me to talk about her behaviour, and I could lead him back to her as it should be, clearly, they are meant to be together. If that didn't work because he was still being obstinate, I had made enough so that I could give him some too. Then when he was involved with Ginny I could work on Percival."

"What were you planning with Mr Graves?"

"I…I was going to see if I couldn't convince him to um…well…date me," She blushed. "Which would give me a chance to see what he is really like and what his plans are for Harry. I thought if he was heartbroken because Harry left him for Ginny I would make sure I was there as a sort of shoulder to cry on."

"Yes."

Albus thought, perhaps he had been going about it the wrong way. He had thought to try and keep his pawn away from all outside influences, but perhaps what he needed to do was acquire a new one. There was still the matter of the boy's wand. Initially he had put it from his mind. The boy after all was just that, a boy, and surely no match for the Greatest Wizard of the Age. Combined with the tattoo it was concerning, but not overly so. Albus did not believe that such a thing could be gifted from one person to another in the way the boy had implied. Wizarding tattoos were rare, and usually symbolised some sort of pact or agreement, like the Dark Mark. That was it perhaps, the boy had an agreement with his guardian to fight those ideals, it was certainly more believable. Seraphina Picquery had been around during the Great Wizarding war so would have thought that the insignia represented Grindlewald and his ethos. After returning from that first meeting with the boy Albus had checked that the Cloak was still where it should be and his wand, worked for him as good as always. It practically smelled of Death. The boy had done nothing outstanding to make him concerned, though his interfering with Harry was annoying. If Percival was actually the master of the Hallows then he was doing an excellent job in hiding it. Albus chuckled softly, no this boy was nothing more than a slightly above average student, probably as a result of his guardians' tutelage.

The girl was still sitting looking at him in adoration, waiting for him to continue. "Yes, perhaps we have been going about this the wrong way. Maybe the boy isn't so bad, but we need to find out. I think that might be best if you try and get close to Percival and figure out what he wants with Harry. Leave Ginny alone for now, trying to interfere there will only make Harry pull away from you further. He can't see what's best for him and will have to be led to the realisation very gently."

"Is there anything that we can use to get Percival to do what we want?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, though they should be used with caution," Dumbledore advised. "This idea of yours deserves a reward I believe," Dumbledore smiled, and swivelled in his chair to pull a book off the shelf behind him. "Do not," he warned sternly, "leave this book lying around like you did the last, for you will not like the consequences."

"Yes Professor," Hermione replied breathily. Oh…she couldn't wait, she could practically feel the dark soft silky wetness of the cover from where she sat, a sure sign that it held esoteric magic of the highest order.

"This is one of my own books, I obtained it after the defeat of the Dark Lord Grindlewald. It is precious to me," he waved his wand over the book. "I have spelled it so that should it be lost, or lie forgotten, it will be returned to this office, and I will know that you have failed me!"

"Yes Professor," Oh how she longed to reach out for that book!

"Alright child. Off you go," Albus Dumbledore, slid the book across his desk, and allowed her to take it. Noticing the way she cradled it to her bosom. He smiled twinkling his thousand-kilowatt shine as she left the room.


	19. Chapter 19

She sat surveying her school. And it was hers now, she had control over it, and there was very little that the batty old Headmaster could do about. He would be evicted soon enough. Her every decision ratified by the Minister. Yes, now she could start to have a real impact. And she was going to start with Potter. The only question was how to do it. Potter didn't seem to care much if she attacked him, he was more responsive if he attacked his friends, but it still wasn't enough. Who would he jump to the defence of? She tapped the rings that encircled her fat fingers against her glass, watching as the boy walked into the hall. He nodded and waved to various children as was his way the fool, and then sat down at the correct distance from his constant companion. That was interesting too, Cornelius had told her in very clear words that she was not to do anything to Percival Graves at all. It was most vexing, as she could see that he was the one Potter was most likely to defend.

A much smaller child approached the group Potter was sitting in, speaking at first to the girl with curly hair and before they were rebuffed. Potter then spoke to the child a doting expression on his face. With an excited little 'hem' Delores bounced in her seat. Oh, what a wickedly marvellous idea.

Next to Delores, Albus Dumbledore sat, watching the march of emotions across her face. Clearly, she had something planned. That presented some interesting possibilities. Perhaps he could turn the situation to his advantage and get the little brat back under his control again. There were a couple of options, the wards had alerted him to the potentially dangerous artefacts that she had bought with her. If she decided to use them on the Wizarding worlds saviour there would be quite the outcry, though it would need to go long enough for there to be residual evidence of course. No half-hearted measures or the public wouldn't care. Then she could be safely removed from his school and he could bargain Harry's guardianship against pressing charges against the Ministers Senior Undersecretary.

Yes. The only fly in the ointment was the boy himself, who appeared much calmer this year. It was surprising really that he hadn't already had detention with Delores. Dumbledore had been expecting it to occur in the first week. The Occlumency lessons he had arranged would help. Severus was so sure that the boy was just like his father that he refused to see what was before him. Indeed, if anything Harry was more like Severus had been when he arrived at school than he was like James. He would tell Severus that he had given Harry some texts to read in preparation so he should be able to get right into 'practicing holding someone out'. That was always an unpleasant emotional experience, having your hated enemy viewing your worst memories. Dumbledore chuckled. It was sure to put the boy on edge.

"Something amusing Albus?" Filius Flitwick asked.

"Oh. My yes, did you see today's joke in the Prophet. Well a goblin a centaur and a hippogriff walked into a pub."

"I don't believe that's appropriate Albus," the short man chided.

"You need to stop being so sensitive." Albus said. "It will give you indigestion."

Flitwick huffed and turned back to his breakfast.

Albus returned to his musings. As an added bonus Occlumency training performed that way would do little to prevent Tom from seeing into the boy's mind, nor would it be helpful in any way except to make him more emotional. Which should help Delores rather obvious plan to get the boy into detention. Would it be enough though? Perhaps he could add just a little more pressure. Surely Remus had met his demise by now. Even if Sirius hadn't gone to find him, it would surely start to break the attachment between them as the boy would see it as a break of trust. Yes, he would call the boy to his office at his early convenience. Albus shovelled a fork full of pancakes in his mouth, ad swallowed hurriedly. Wondering what on earth was wrong with the food, it had barely any taste today. He sighed, the Weasley twins had probably been upsetting the Elves again. He pushed himself up from his throne with a sigh. He would have to send Minerva to sort the little pests out, or they wouldn't have a decent meal for months. Sometimes he wondered why he had bothered being Headmaster at all.

It was funny sometimes the way different teachers achieved the same ends. McGongall, with the simple thinning of her lips, would bring her class to silence, Binns would bore them into slumber (which was relatively), and Snape merely walked into the room.

He made a sweeping turn which sent his outer robes flaring around his feet, "The instructions for today's potions are on the board," he flicked his wand to make it so. "This will be your only warning to follow them precisely, you will be working individually and there will be no need for talking as I expect after nearly five years of tuition you have achieved a certainly level of competence." He sneered at the Gryffindors, noting that Harry was in the far corner this morning. "Do not disappoint me, you will not like the consequences."

The potion was a fiddly one, involving multiple steps for the treatment of one ingredient, for example the knot grass needed to be cleaned, shredded into long strips then diced. Surprisingly the Gryffindors were managing reasonably well, though Granger was hissing at her neighbour, Neville Longbottom, so much that she was beginning to sound like a boiling kettle, the boys she was 'helping' was growing less confident as time went on.

"Miss Granger, I believe you have failed to understand the instructions I gave at the beginning of classes. I clearly said, no talking!"

"But, Sir, Neville doesn't…"

Snape glared, "As surprising to us all at it is Mr Longbottom's potion was looking adequate before you began 'assisting' him. Desist at once!"

Bless the boy, but Longbottom looked vaguely pleased at the backhanded compliment. A sideways glance showed that Graves's potions was exemplary as usual and Potter's was not far behind, with the rate that he was catching up perhaps he did have some of his Mother's talent after all. He whispered a near silent 'well done' to the two boys whose potions were nearing completion. Potter lifted a hand hidden on the back side of the cauldron to display the poorly hopped piece of willow bark he held in his hand. If added it would render the potions inert but what could be a rather spectacular explosion of foam. He inclined his head. Turned and moved to the front of the classroom.

Woosh! Turning he was unsurprised to see that the entire classroom was covered in a lurid green foam and Potter standing by his cauldron, looking thoroughly surprised.

"You blasted boy. Can you not even follow simple directions?" he went into his usual rant. "Detention with me every Wednesday until the end of the year. Now get out of my class and don't return." He pointed a finger at the door. Potter ducked his head and made his bedraggled way out of the classroom, looking suitable chastised like a whipped cur.

The Slytherins were still laughing over the incident at lunch drawing the Headmaster's attention.

"Your students appear in high spirits after this morning's classes Severus. Do you know what has occurred?"

"I have finally had reason to ban the bane of my existence from my classroom," Snape sneered.

"Really, which of the senior students have upset you, my dear boy?"

Snape huffed and said, "Potter, blew up his cauldron, covered the whole room in foam. It took me an hour to clean the ceiling. Thankfully it wasn't toxic."

"Come now Severus, that's not enough reason to turn out a student before their OWLs. You know you have to continue teaching them until they have sat those teams. I'm sorry to say that you will need to take the boy back,"

Dumbledore knew what this was, oh his clever spy. It was one of his wisest decisions turning the man into a pawn, no he was more useful than that, and shouldn't be thrown away so easily, a castle then. He had come up with the perfect cover to teach Harry Occlumency and not only that, with this stunt, he had given Albus the opportunity to intercede and therefore the boy would feel indebted to him once more. After all Harry surely wanted to be an Auror and for that he needed his Potion NEWT which he wouldn't have a chance of getting without achieving his OWL first.

"The boy is a menace Albus!"

The Headmaster affected a stern look over his half-moon spectacles, "I am afraid I must insist Severus. All students must sit their potions OWL. It is compulsory. You will have to have him back in class. However, you may use his detentions to teach him remedial options, in fact I insist on it."

Scowling at his plate, Severus gave the appearance of giving in sullenly.

"Oh, what a face," Dumbledore chuckled, "How about you try the quiche I believe it is delightful.

It wasn't.

"Inside," Snape said sharply, after opening the door to Harry's knock. It was closed, locked and warded the moment the boy was inside. When they were seated opposite each other Snape spoke, "The Headmaster has advised me that you have been given an introductory text to read on Occlumency. Is that correct?"

"I haven't seen Dumbledore since well before Christmas Professor. However, I have read '_Protecting the Mind_' and '_Looking Inwards'_. Sirius arranged copies for me."

"Yes, they would be included in his library, with proclivity the Blacks have for mind magic. Do you have any questions?" Harry shook his head. "The Headmaster wishes for me to commence immediately with testing the protections you have in place, after reading whatever text he recommended. What have you achieved so far? Can you empty your mind?" Harry shook his head again. "What have you been doing dammit! Harry I was under the impression you were progressing well…."

Harry held a hand up. A slight smile on his lips at the use of his first name, when Snape stopped, Harry spoke, "I don't have the sort of mind that lends itself to becoming completely empty. We trialled a number of different techniques, but I couldn't achieve it," Snape looked ready to interrupt but Harry kept talking. "Instead we used the single focus technique, which worked much better, though it still took a few trials to find the right focus. I have created a mindscape and implemented protections including walling in the …..well you know."

"Fine, we'll try Albus' suggestion then. Hold me out as long as you can?"

"Um," Harry looked uncertain. "Is the aim for you not to get in, or for you not to see my memories and thoughts?"

"They are the same thing!"

"Um, not really. I'm kind of more prepared for the second one than I am for the first. Which might work better given that Dumbledore doesn't really want me to succeed at this."

"Fine. Stop me from seeing anything."

"Ok."

Green eyes were raised to meet black.

"Legilimens."

Before he could register anything else there was the sensation of falling, then the sound of rushing wind, finally his eyes adjusted to the bright light and whipping his head to look around revealed with gut clenching certainty that he was falling and that the ground was fast approaching. He closed his eyes and withdrew.

" .That?"

"Did you like it? That's my first line of defence!" Harry smiled.

His potions professor was looking like he had just sucked on a lemon. "What happens on impact?"

"Oh, you just get evicted, I couldn't figure out a way to link it to any other consequences like hexes or whatever, without revealing where my thoughts lie, I'm still working on that."

"The novelty of it was certainly startling," Severus could appreciate the ingenuity now that he had had a moment to recover. "Though it might not work as well on Riddle." He said seriously.

"Why is that?" Harry asked curiously, head tipped to one side.

"Because he can fly…unaided," Severus said.

"Hmm. It's only really good for one attack anyway," Harry shrugged, "Any wizard could conjure or transfigure a broom in the time that the fall takes. Once they know what to expect it isn't really much of a defence. I don't expect he will attack that way, as he already has a means of getting in."

"Hmmm, well you had best show me the rest." The green eyes looked up once more. It was truly shocking the amount of trust the boy was giving him. "Legilimens."

This time they were floating opposite one another on brooms, the feeling of the wind blowing on his face was present once more, giving Severus an insight into what the boy had finally found to focus on.

"I never liked flying all that much," Snape said as they descended.

"Well you could try transfiguring the broom into a parachute instead?" Harry suggested cheekily.

"I'm not sure that is any better," Severus stamped hard on the ground before glancing up and taking in the landscape. "Where are we?" The boy beside him just shrugged. "Nearly all mindscapes are simple adaptions of the world we see, usually a place that has meaning to us. If Riddle knows this place or has been here as well, he will know his way around. Where is this?"

"Nowhere," Harry shrugged.

"Then how did you create it?" Snape was genuinely curious now.

"When I was little and had just starting nursery school," Harry stared into the distance. "The teacher asked us to draw a picture of where we went on holidays. I said, quite truthfully, I hadn't been anywhere. The teacher knew from Petunia's bragging that the Dursleys had been away, so she told me to stop lying and start drawing. I had overheard them talking about the places they had been, mainly about green rolling hills and a castle, by the sea. So, I drew what I thought it looked like. It became a kind of weird hope that one day I would get to see it for myself," he gave a sad little laugh. "It's funny you know; I can't even remember the name of the place that they actually went to."

"Well, that's probably better," Severus nodded a little sadly, making a note to mention it to the mutt, even he had been to the beach. "If it isn't a real place then Riddle won't know his way around. What is this?"

They had been wandering aimlessly and arrived at the silo like structure that Harry had built around Riddle's soul piece.

"That's where the piece of Riddle is. As far as I can tell, it's actually imbedded into my brain, which means I can't keep him out as such. I built this to try and contain him as long as possible."

"Was this open while you built everything else?" Snape asked intently.

"No!" Harry denied. "We didn't know how far in he was at that point, so this went up first. I didn't see the point otherwise." He watched as Snape breathed a sigh of…..relief? It was so hard to tell with that man.

"And there are other safety mechanisms?"

"Yes Sir. There is a warning system in the ground, ceiling and walls. If he breaks though I should know. Then…well…can you find out where memories are?"

The black eyes, glanced around considering the options, "Initially I would have said in the grass and rocks but thinking about you now that I have seen this, I think they are …" He glanced skyward. "I won't think on it too hard, just in case something goes wrong."

"You're in danger, every time you go to him, aren't you?" Harry asked quietly.

"I will not lie to you Harry. Yes, it's dangerous, but it's worth it."

"I don't think I could stand it if something happened to you because of me," the boy fretted, and Severus was reminded that the boy in front of him was still so very young. "And now that we think Dumbledore is also a danger, we are asking even more of you."

"I don't do it because of you Harry. I do it to honour the friendship I had with your mother, to protect those like yourself who are innocent, and to redeem myself, for I have made a great many mistakes. Come let us return."

Green eyes blinked and closed in pain.

"Even as gentle as we were, there will still be pain. I think in each of your detentions we still work on how to evict someone from your mind. You need more then deceptions though. Work on that. Still, I am most pleased with how much you have achieved, with only another teenage to teach you." He turned away and rummaged through a box on his desk, eventually removing a vial. "This is for your headache. Do not take it until you have returned to your common room. The portraits need to see you acting unwell after our session. And above all things remember to meditate before you sleep."

With a hesitant nod, Harry took the vial. Then in a move that surprised them both, he stepped forward quickly wrapped his arms around the professor, tucked his head under the older man's chin and gave the man a firm hug.

"Thank you," he squeaked before he hurried out the door, leaving Snape standing leaning against his desk for support.

Though he was aware of how the eyes of the portraits all followed him, there was no need for Harry to fake his misery as he stumbled his way back through the castle. His head was throbbing. Eventually he made his way to the portrait hole, uttered the password and was granted entry. It felt immensely difficult to drag himself all the way over to the couch that Percival was sitting on and allow himself to fall, head landing in Percival's lap.

"How was detention or shouldn't I ask?" Neville asked sympathetically, staring at the position they were in, with a snicker.

"Arrrr," Harry groaned, motioning his desire for a quieter environment. Percival raised a hand and with a flourish, created a barrier to the sound of the room's other occupants.

"Can you do something to obscure the view as well?" Harry asked. Percival didn't answer but waved his hand again. Harry pulled out the vial he had been given, downing it in one pull, shuddering at the taste. "It wasn't bad, just the after affects. He was testing my Occlumency. We didn't really get to the bit the Dumbledore wants him to do yet. Which is a full-on assault. More just checking out what I have done already, so I got to test out my first protection. Still hurts though. Why is that?" he looked up at his boyfriend. "You've been in my mindscape for longer and it didn't hurt this much.

"You allowed him to trigger your defences, so your mind was immediately placed on alert." Percival replied. "And you don't trust him, like you do me." He lifted a hand and began massaging Harry's head. The moan he drew from the smaller boy had Neville and Ron laughing.

"Don't laugh, it's sooooo good," he groaned. "Hey, what's that hand wavy, wavy thing. You haven't shown me those spells!" He pouted adorably at Percival.

"I'd be keen to know as well," Ron said eagerly, Neville nodding in agreement.

"Alright I'll show you, just not tonight. I think someone has got to do some homework, before he goes to bed," he jostled Harry's shoulder, disrupting the doze he had fallen into.

Harry was happy to note that his headache was completely gone the next morning, though it had been replaced by a feeling of foreboding, which he shared with Neville. Neville was also the first one to notice something had changed between the pair over the break.

"Harry?" Neville said quietly as they waited for the others to finish in the bathroom so that they could all head down to breakfast together.

"Yeah," Harry glanced up from where he was packing the books and homework he needed for the day into his bag.

"What's going on between you and Percival?"

"Ah."

It was strange now the question had come. A part of Harry wanted to keep what he had with Percival completely private. It was selfish in a way, but Percival had said that he wanted to be able to hold hands with Harry as they walked around the school, if they did that everyone would know anyway. Harry snorted; they couldn't do that with Umbridge now. And if there was one person who had never broken his trust it was Neville.

"What did you want to know?" Harry finally said.

"Are you together? As in _together_ together?" Neville blushed.

"Is there another sort of together?" Percival chuckled as he emerged from the bathroom.

"Well you could just be close friends without being, you know…" he waved his hands about.

"What's…." Harry waved his hand around in an amusing imitation, "that mean?"

"Boyfriends," Neville mock glared at him. "You knew what I meant."

"Yeah, I did," Harry looked at Percival who was smiling at him. "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes Neville, Harry and I are dating," Percival said.

"Dammit," Ron said as he re-entered the room.

"What? Why?" Harry asked unsurely.

"I was sure you were so oblivious it would take until at least Easter. You made me lose a bet with the twins."

"What do you owe the twins then?" Neville asked shrewdly.

"Test subject, on two products," Ron fell on to his bed with a dramatic sigh.

"What would they have had to give you if you had won?"

"No surprise testing on me until the Summer holidays. It would have been bliss. Thanks Harry!" he ended sarcastically. "Still I'm better off than Lee."

"Well I'm just glad that all the gooey eyed stares are over," Neville said, hoisting his bag over his shoulders.

"Stares what stares?"

Neville shook his head as he walked to the door, "Come on we'll be late for breakfast at this rate."

Percival took Harry's hand and didn't let it go until they left the common room.

Breakfast began as usual. As they entered the Great Hall, they could see coffee and tea pots dotted around the tables, each surrounded by little islands of cups. Not long after that more students began to arrive and at a predetermined time the platters of food appeared, carafes of pumpkin juice followed. Halfway through the meal, the owl post began to arrive. Harry wasn't expecting any himself, but it was nice to see that Hedwig had decided to come for a visit and he fed her leftover bits of bacon rind. Glancing up at the table revealed that Hagrid had returned from whatever mission he had been on for the Order. Though from his beaten-up appearance, it hadn't gone all that well. Kicking Ron in the shin, he nodded towards the teachers table. Ron smiled in acknowledgement before kicking Harry in retaliation but missed getting Ginny who was sitting on the other side of Harry instead. Without warning the boogers flew out of Ron's nose.

"Stop it now!" Percival warned with a growl, as Ron now had his wand out. His tone made them all freeze and hurriedly return to their breakfasts.

It was the ever-observant Percival who was the first to notice that something was wrong with Neville as he turned to say something to Harry. The blonde boy appeared to be frozen, the Dailey Prophet unrolled in front of him, his face was an odd grey shade. Harry followed Percival's worried gaze.

"Neville?" he gently reached out a hand to touch his friends' shoulder. When that failed to elicit a response, he shook the shoulder. "Neville."

By now the whole group was looking. Seamus took the drastic step of reaching across the table and flicking Neville in the middle of his forehead, "Oi, Nev, snap ou' o' it!"

"Ow!" Neville rubbed his forehead. Glanced at the paper and swallowed, turning grey again. "Not feeling so well, might just…." he stood and quickly walked out, leaving the paper behind him. The others staring after him in confusion.

Percival reached in front of Harry to grab the paper and look at the headline.

**Mass Breakout From Azkaban**

Harry leaned over to scan the article, "I'll go and see if he's ok."

He picked up both their bags and scurried off after Neville. Percival passed the paper to the others, saying, "Not a word about it to anyone!" before he followed.

Harry didn't manage to find Neville before class, and the blonde slipped away into the press of students afterwards.

"He probably needs some time to process it." Percival advised, glancing around quickly and giving Harry a brief hug. Stepping away as one of the enchanted tape measures floated around the corner.

Neville wasn't the only one struggling as a result of the Death Eaters escaping. There were other relatives of their victims amongst the students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors: Susan Bones, whose uncle, aunt and cousins had all died at the hands of one of the ten, said miserably during Herbology that she now had a good idea of what it felt like to be Harry.

"And I don't know how you stand it – it's horrible," she said bluntly, dumping far too much manure on her tray of Screechsap seedlings, causing them to wriggle and squeak in discomfort.

Harry thought it was a nice sentiment, but it didn't change that she had been only to happy to sneer and deride him during the Heir of Slytherin debacle and again just last year. An actual apology may have convinced him that she had some idea of what he actually had to put up with. The article had renewed the interest in Harry again though the pointing fingers and mutterings seemed to have a less hostile tone then they had at the start of the year. Once or twice he was sure he overheard snatches of conversations that suggested that the speakers were not satisfied with the Prophet's version of events.

It was not only the students' mood that had changed. It was now quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the minute they saw students approaching.

Neville had managed to hide away the whole day, not appearing for either lunch or dinner. It was not until they returned to the common room that Harry found him.

"Nev," Harry called softly as he entered the dorm alone having convinced the others to stay down in the common room.

The room was silent, but the curtains were drawn around Neville's bed. Tentatively, Harry drew them aside. Neville was lying on his stomach, head buried under his pillow. Cautiously Harry touched his shoulder, Neville turned away a little more.

"I don't know what you're feeling, Nev," Harry said quietly. "I know there is nothing I can say to make it better, Nev, but we are here for you if you need us. I don't know if you are feeling scared or angry or something else entirely but …." Harry gave Neville's shoulder a squeeze and sat on the bed in the space behind him. "if you want to talk about it, we'll be here. If you want to throw punches or hexes, we can do that too. If you don't want to go to meals because people stare, then we can go to the rec room and have Dobby bring us something. Just….don't shut us out ok?"

Harry waited a moment, when there was no response he slid from the bed, "I'll keep the guys down in the common room, for a bit. When you're ready come down. You know they won't say anything." He returned to the common room.

It was half an hour later that a pale faced, Neville approached the group. He looked determinedly at Percival, "I need to get better. I want you to teach me how to fight."

"Fight? Not duel?" Percival clarified.

With a nod, Neville replied, "I doubt that they will be obeying rules."

"Alright," Percival considered. "Get your cloak Harry." The smaller boy dashed up to the dorm taking the stairs two at a time. He looked around at Ron, Seamus and Dean had moved away from the group and were playing exploding snap. "Ron when do you have rounds?"

Ron shook his head in disappointment, "Nine. Fifth years go first. I'll come next time, I said I would do my Divination homework with Lavender and Parvati," he pulled a face at the last.

"That'll make it easier. If anyone asks, say I'm taking Neville to the Infirmary."

"Yeah, looking at him it's that'll be pretty believable," Ron grimaced, for once glad that he wasn't the focus of the attention. Neville grumbled a complaint.

"I assume I am following?" Harry's voice whispered from the air beside Percival.

"Hmm," Percival hummed his agreement. "Come on Neville," he slipped a supportive arm around the boy's shoulders. "I'll help you to the Hospital wing."

"I'm fine," Neville complained faintly.

"I'm not cleaning up the mess if you throw up in the dorm room," Ron stated.

"I would never, Ooff," something sharp jabbed him in the stomach and he doubled over.

"Ewww. Take him away now!" squealed Iris Midgen, a tiny second year, looking slightly green. "Don't let him be sick in here."

"Come on," Percival led Neville away, not looking at Ron who was hiding a snigger behind his hand.

"Will he be ok?" Iris asked Ron.

"He sure will. Madame Pomphrey is the best; she'll fix him right up don't you worry. Have you had Pepper Up Potion yet?" She shook her head. "Well," he smiled at her, "It makes steam come out of your ears. Just imagine what that makes me look like." He pursed his lips and puffed out his cheeks, blowing out the air when he heard her giggle. "Right then, do you need a hand with your homework?"

"No, thanks," she grinned at him and moved back to her where her friends were sitting in a circle.

"Padma said you were a right git to her at the Ball," Parvati said as she and Lavender moved over to where Ron was sitting on the ground.

"Yeah. I was," Ron admitted easily. "To busy being jealous to see what was right in front of me I guess," he said pulling his textbook from his bag. "Now can you explain what she meant about in the last lesson? She lost me once she started mentioning cycles of seven."

That was not the last night that they retreated to the Study room. It seemed that the escape from Azkaban was the fire in his belly that Neville needed to begin to push himself. Ron often joined them when he wasn't required for Prefect's duties.

"Hey Harry," Neville said as he entered the room.

"Neville," Harry looked up from the Arithmancy essay he was working on.

"Thought you guys might be able to help. I found this," he showed them a book.

"What is it?"

"You know how I sit next to Hermione in potions now. Well, she dashed out of the room the other day and I think this fell out of her bag. It's a bit odd, because as far as I can tell its next year's text."

"Yeah I saw it in her bag before the holidays," Harry said.

"It's got a lot the same hints in it that you've been teaching us, but, there's other stuff as well. Spells and things." He passed the book to Percival. "Thought they might be worth trying out."

Percival flicked through the book, "Most of them look harmless enough. They seem to be mainly based Latin, so it's easy to figure out what they should do. Levi Corpus or to lift the body and it's counter Libera Corpus to free the body. They could be useful. And this Muffliato, not Latin based but I bet it muffles sounds or something. Those should be safe enough to try out on each other." He continued flicking.

"Langlock, looks like a cross between language and lock so perhaps it stops you being able to speak?" He paused frowning at the words written on the next page. "Sectum Sempra for enemies…this one is not so nice."

"Why's that?" Harry, who had stopped studying to listen to Percival's mutterings asked.

"Sectum Sempra, based on the Latin it means to cut forever."

"That's…sounds….horrible."

"Hmm," agreed Percival. "It might be worth looking at but only for extreme circumstances. If we can find a dummy to practice on, I'll try it but otherwise no."

"Couldn't it help against Death Eaters though?" Neville asked timidly.

"Depends what it does. Cuts are made to heal. Using a Diffindo will cut but can be healed if used on a person." The younger boys both winced. "If it is a simple cut that stays open, and there is a counter curse then it is possibly only a little worse than using a Diffindo on someone, however, if it causes irreparable damage to the body then that goes against the natural order of things."

"But didn't Sirius say…"

"Sirius was trying to explain it in a way you would understand, and the easiest way to explain it is using necromancy. Regardless if there is a distinctly seductive malevolent feel to it, we will be treating it just like an unforgiveable." He paused to consider something. "Actually, we might need to find somewhere else to practice that as the school should have wards in place to either detect or prevent the casting of dark magic. In the meantime," he pointed his wand at Harry, "Levio Corpus."

Harry was hoisted into the air by a foot.

"Oi!" After that it was a bit of a free-for all as they ran around the room, each trying to hit one of the others with the spell, while dodging out of the way when it was cast at them.

"Harry Potter, Sir!" Dobby popped into existence by Harry's shoulder.

Bang

"Shite," Harry swore as his spell let go, dropping Ron on his head. "Sorry Ron!".

"Ow. That sure packs a punch Harry," Ron rubbed the back of his head as he tried to push himself upright.

"Um, Perce is there a spell to check…" Harry asked. "Sorry Ron." He moved over to support his friend.

Percival, looked the red-head over, then waved his wand, "Slight concussion," he pronounced. "We should take him to see Pomphrey."

"I'll go," Neville volunteered. "Looks like your House Elf, wants your attention Harry."

Dobby was bouncing on his toes, as he waited for them to finish speaking. "I founds it!" he said as they turned to look at him. With a click two trunks appeared next to the Elf.

"What?" Harry asked trying to remember what he had last asked the Elf to do.

"I has founds Harry Potters Lily and James's school trunks," Dobby squealed.

"Oh, oh, both of them," Harry whispered.

"We'll head to the common room when we are done," Neville told Percival. "So, he can take his time."

"Nev, if I find anything about your parents I'll let you know," Harry said as Neville helped Ron stagger out of the room. He turned back to look at the Elf, "Tell me everything!"

With his hands twisted in the apron he now wore Dobby wailed. "I looks and looks for trunks and couldn't find them anywhere. Then Dobby visits Harry Potter's Dogfather. Mr Serious Black says that trunks could be in old house."

"In their old house? Where's that?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Godric's Hollow. Lots of wards," Dobby said sounding a little smug.

"How did you get through them?" Percival asked.

"Dobby sneaky," the Elf's ears wiggled. "Wards keeping out, bugs, and cold and wet and peoples, but not Dobby. Dobby is having lots of practice with finding Potter things."

"So they were just there in the basement?"

"No, basement empty, they in attic."

"But Remus said he went and picked up things from the house and took them to Gringott's for me," Harry said.

"Many things gone from house," Dobby agreed. "To much broken, only Elves get to attic."

"Thank you, Dobby. If there is ever anything you need, just let me know," Harry smiled.

"Dobby asked already," the little house Elf said sternly. "Be asking Mr Serious Black if he wants House Elf?"

"Oh! I forgot. If you get the mirror from my trunk, I'll ask him now. Sorry," he apologised.

Two pops later and the mirror was in his hand.

"Sirius," Harry called.

"What time do you call this?" Sirius griped. "What are you doing out after curfew? This isn't fair the Maurader in me wants to commend you on your obvious rule breaking and the responsible adult in me wants to scold you and tell you to get to bed, because it's a school night!"

"We lost track of time," Harry tried to look contrite. "Nev found this old potion book and we were trying some spells out."

"Woah, hold up there Harry. Trying spells out? Who is supervising?"

"Percival," Harry replied, and Sirius could tell that he was rolling his eyes.

"Harry. If you are trying out spells you don't know. I want you to have a teacher on hand," Sirius looked at his Godson with concern.

"But…"

"No buts, Harry."

"Sirius," Harry whined. "Who do we ask? McGonagall never listens. I don't like Sprout after how she treated me last year. I don't know Babbling, Sinestra well enough. I suppose I could ask Snape?"

"No don't ask Se…Snape, between Dumbledore and Riddle he has enough going on. How about Flitwick?"

"He's ok I suppose, but he squeaked and fell off his stool the first time he read my name out," Harry pouted, making Percival and Sirius laugh.

"He's also non-judgemental and loves to see students learning new things," Sirius smile grew sly. "You know your mother was one of his favourite students, I bet he would have some stories to tell."

"Fine!" Harry noticed a pull on the bottom of his shirt. "Oh! Um, Sirius, Dobby knows a House Elf who is looking for a family. She used to be Crouches Elf but…Ow!" Harry rubbed his arm from where Dobby had given him a hard pinch.

"It's alright Harry, I get the picture. I would like to talk with her and see if she gets on with Kreacher before I make any commitments. Tell her to come and visit tomorrow after lunch."

With a nod, Dobby disappeared.

"Promise me, you'll have a teacher with you, if you are trying spells you don't know," Sirius pressed.

"But Percival has been teaching me heaps of spells," Harry whined

"Did Percival know these spells?"

"Well he knew what they meant," the boy hedged. "And there was one spell he wouldn't let me try."

"It's different if he already knows the spell. Harry," Sirius tried to explain. "He knows from experience how much energy it uses, what it does and how to fix it if it goes wrong. A new spell he won't know those things."

"Alright," Harry finally conceded.

"Good now get the Cloak out and straight back to the common room."

"But Dobby just found Mum and Dad's trunks." The picture in the mirror went so still that Harry had to ask, "Sirius, are you ok?"

Black, shook himself from the head down, though Harry noticed his voice was a bit gruff when he spoke, "Yes. I'm fine. Consider this your punishment for being irresponsible. Shrink them down and take them back to the dorm and look at the tomorrow."

"Fine."

"Harry," Sirius said.

"I get it Sirius," Harry said feeling slightly guilty.

"Goodnight," Sirius tried to fill his voice with all the emotion he was feel, while he really wanted to give Harry a hug. Why was it so hard?

By the time Harry had tucked the mirror into his pocket, Percival had already shrunk both the trunks and had the Cloak unfolded.

"Did you want to carry them?" he asked softly, holding the trunks out in one hand. Harry took them silently and put them in his pockets. "Come here," Percival coaxed, holding his arms out wide. Harry stepped in close and wrapped his arms around Percival's waist, burying his nose into the firm chest, as Percival closed his arms in.

"It's unfair," Harry complained into Percival's shirt.

"Which bit, the trunks or the spells?"

"Both."

"Think about it from his point of view. He doesn't know about my history, so it makes perfect sense to him for us to require supervision and he raised some excellent points. With curfew he is just trying to be a responsible adult."

"He's a hypocrite."

"Yes, though I think most parents are. Once they take on the responsibility for another being, they begin to see the world a bit differently and things they once did are no longer acceptable. It shows that he cares and loves you."

"You think he loves me?" Harry tipped his head back so he could see Percival's face.

"I think he loves you more than anything." Percival bent closer and gently brushed his lips against Harry's. "We had better go." He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and flipped the Cloak over them both.

"Um, Professor?" Harry asked hesitantly, he had hung back as the rest of the class departed Charms, so he could speak with the Professor. It was only knowing that Percival, Ron and Neville would be waiting just outside the room that gave him the courage to ask.

"Oh, yes, Mr Potter," Flitwick smiled genially. "Do you have a question about the homework?"

"Um, I have a question, but not about the homework, Sir. I've always found yours to be well set out. I have a question about my mother."

"Oh," Flitwick squeaked. "I'm not sure how much of an old teachers wafflings you'll want to hear."

"Anything, Professor. You see Sirius and Remus both knew my dad well, but they don't know as much about my mother. Um Remus said there was a clause in his contract that had some restrictions….to do with me in it. Are you….?" Harry stopped unsure how to raise the question.

"Well, Mr Potter," Flitwick grinned mischievously, "being part Goblin comes with some benefits, including being quite good at negotiation. While I do have some restrictions, mine are not as tight as some. In fact, I am only limited by needing to wait until you approach me. Though we may need to disguise the meetings as some sort of study to avoid unnecessary complications."

"Are you allowed to help me study?"

"Hmm, not as such though I think we could get away with creating a fifth-year charms club."

The boy grinned, "Well then Professor, my friends and I have found a book and there are number of spells written in it that we would like to try out. My guardian has made me promise to only try them in the presence of an experienced teacher like yourself. Would you be available?"

Flitwick nodded. "Have you got the book with you?"

"Um, no we left it in the dorm. "

"Well bring it with you to our first meeting. Shall we say Saturday at three?"

"Three sounds great Professor, thank you."

"Oh, it is no problem Mr Potter. I've heard things from my cousins Mr Potter, and I am only too happy to assist. Don't forget to bring your friends. Now off with you before you're late for your next lesson."

He was nervous, long ago he had sworn to his brother that he would never ever do this. Yet here he was dressed all in purple like some old-fashioned popinjay. With a snort, he wondered how much Lily and James were laughing at him now. A bell sounded from the other side of the doors indicating that it would be soon be time.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

The chime peeled again, and he raised his left hand towards the door, there was a slight chime and then the doors opened. He stepped forward into the light. Glancing around he could see the rows of seats spiralling above him, Albus Dumbledore was smiling and twinkling at him from his chair which sat on an elevated platform in the middle of the floor. A single light beamed onto a seat on the first tier.

"Ah, our first order of business is to welcome back, Lord Black. Are you ready to swear your oath?"

Sirius did not acknowledge that the man had spoken, he simply raised his wand skyward, "I swear that I shall honour magic, and take care of and protect her realm and all who dwell here, with honour, dignity and courage. On my life I swear, so mote it be."

It was their first Care of Magical Creatures lesson since Hagrid had returned. Harry and Ron had hurried the others away from their meals as soon as possible so that they were the first to arrive. They desperately wanted to give their friend a warning. After the latest education decree, Umbridge had commenced inspecting the teachers lessons. So far she had only attended Divination for the fifth years and it had been a bit of a debacle resulting in the women being placed on probation. Harry didn't want his friend to go through the same experience.

They found Hagrid standing on the patch of grass beside his house on the side near the Forbidden Forest. There were healing wounds visible on the large man's hands and a fading bruise over his left eye.

"Hagrid! What happened to you?"

"Nothin' Now tell me what's going on with you?" He nodded to Ron and Neville and stared for a moment at Percival. "Where's 'Ermione?"

"Um," Harry looked at his feet. "We don't talk much anymore. She's been different this year, and we're worried that something is wrong with her. I talked to Sirius about it but there is nothing we can do at the moment except keeping an eye on her."

With a shake of his head, Hagrid frowned, "She's been a good friend 'Arry. Remember with Buckbeak. Don't get rid of 'er jus' 'cause someone else comes along. She's already been along to visit me."

Harry tried not to sigh, of course she had already been to see Hagrid. He wondered if it was because she wanted to see Hagrid or whether it was so she could convince the tender-hearted man that she was in the right. He desperately wanted to believe that it was the first but had a sneaking suspicion that it was the second.

"It's not because of anyone else Hagrid. It started during the summer….." Harry began his explain before he was interrupted by a cough from Neville, who was glancing over his shoulder watching the other students approaching. With a start Harry realised that he hadn't even had the chance to warn Hagrid about Umbridge.

Rubbing his hands together against the cold Harry looked around at the group that had gathered on the edge of the forest. Hermione moved over to join them standing close to Ron and Neville.

"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid called happily to the gathering students. Jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark."

The Slytherins started whispering in slightly panicked tones, while the others stamped their feet trying to keep warm. Harry remembered the only other occasion; he knew of that Malfoy had entered the forest before now; he hadn't been very brave then either. While he wasn't opposed to any situation that caused Malfoy discomfort, he wondered whether it was the dark or the forest that was the problem. Perhaps all was not right in the world of the silver prince of Slytherin after all.

"Ready?" said Hagrid cheerfully, looking around at the class. "Right well, I've been savin' a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed to train 'em."

Hagrid ignored the continued mutterings of the Slytherins, hoisted half a dead cow over his shoulder and strode into the forest. Harry glanced at Percival, Ron and Neville and with a nod they followed, leading the rest of the class.

They followed the path and it didn't take them to reach a place where the trees were gathered so close together that there was no snow at all on the ground. With a grunt, Hagrid deposited his half cow on the ground, stepped back and turned to face his class many of whom were fidgeting nervously.

"Gather roun', gather roun'" Hagrid encouraged. "Now they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway 'cause they'll like ter know it's me."

He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the sound of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed: most of them looked too scared to make a sound. A minute passed during which Hagrid repeated the call, while the class continued to peer around at the trees for the first glimpse of whatever it was that was coming.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes were growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness. It looked around at the class for a moment, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow.

A great wave of relief broke over Harry and he shared a small smile with Percival, "Thestrals."

"Righ' yer are 'Arry," Hagrid said. "Five points fer Gryffindor."

Most of the class were wearing expressions of confusion and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing just feet in front of them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle who was watching the horse eat with an expression of great disgust on his face; and Neville whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" said Hagrid proudly, as a second Thestral appeared out of the dark trees, folded its leathery wings closer into its body and dipped its head to gorge on the meat. "Now…put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Only four hands were raised.

"I knew you'd be able ter see it, Harry," Hagrid said seriously. "An' you too, Neville eh? An' –"

"Excuse me," said Malfoy in a sneering voice, "but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

"Didn' yer hear 'Arry?" Hagrid pointed at the cow carcass on the ground, as if it were self explanatory.

The whole class stared at it for a few seconds, then several people gasped, and Parvati squealed.

"What's eating it?" Parvati gasped.

"Like 'Arry said, Thestrals!" Hagrid stated proudly. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd o' 'em in here. Now who knows -?"

"But they're supposed to be really unlucky!" interrupted Parvati, looking alarmed. "Professor Trelawney told me –"

"No, no, no," said Hagrid chuckling, "Tha's jus' superstition, that is. They aren' unlucky, jus' misunderstood. They're actually dead clever an' useful. Now who can tell me why some o' yeh can see 'em and some can't?"

Hermione raised her hand, but she wasn't the only one.

"'Arry!" Hagrid said almost reflexively.

"Um, because only people who have seen death can see Thestrals," Harry said quietly, ignoring the sniff from the girl standing to his right.

"Tha's exactly right," said Hagrid solemnly, "ten points ter Gryffindor. Now Thestrals -"

"_Hem hem_."

Professor Umbridge had arrived. She was standing a few feet away from Harry, wearing a green hat and cloak, a clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who had never heard Umbridge's fake cough before, was gazing in some concern at the nearest thestral, clearly worried.

"_Hem, hem_."

"Oh, hello!" Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.

"You've received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" said Umbridge in a loud, slow voice, as though she was addressing someone both foreign and very slow.

"Oh, yeah," said Hagrid brightly. "Glad yer found the place all righ'! Well we're doin' Thestrals today."

"I'm sorry? Said Professor Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand to her ear and frowning. "What did you say?"

The question clearly confused Hagrid and it showed, "Er – Thestrals!" he said matching her volume. "Big -er- winged horses, yeh know!" He flapped his arms to demonstrate.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and muttered as she made a note on her clip board: _Has to resort to crude sign language._

"Well….anyway…" said Hagrid turning back to the class and looking slightly flustered. " Erm…what was I sayin'?"

"You mentioned that Hogwarts has a herd," Harry said ignoring Malfoy as he snickered at Umbridge's loud mutterings as she wrote again: _Appears to have poor short term memory._

"Oh Yeah," said Hagrid, throwing an uneasy glance at Umbridge's clipboard, but ploughing on valiantly. "Yeah, I was gonna tell yeh how come we got a herd. Yeah, so , we started off with a male an' five females. This one," he patted the first horse to have appeared, "name o' Tenebres, he's my special favourite, firs' one born here in the Forest –"

"Are you aware," Umbridge said loudly. "That the ministry has classified Thestrals as dangerous?"

Here Percival spoke up," Madame Umbridge they are a class four x animal, and are on the Ministry's list of animals that may be studied by students who are studying for their OWLs. You might not be aware that this in an OWL Care of Magical Creatures class." Harry was impressed at how pleasant Percival sounded.

Umbridge looked like she had swallowed a lemon but didn't respond. Instead she looked at Hagrid and said very slowly and loudly, "Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk," she mimed walking (Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were having silent fits of laughter), "among the students" (she pointed around at the individual members of the class), "and ask them questions." She pointed at her mouth to indicate talking.

Hagrid stared at her, clearly at a complete loss to understand why she was acting as though he did not understand normal English. Hermione who had been simmering for a while as she stood beside Ron, now had tears of fury in her eyes.

"You hag, you evil hag!" she whispered.

"Erm…anyway," said Hagrid, clearly struggling to regain the flow of his lesson," so- Thestrals aren't dangerous, though they migh' take a bite outta yeh if yeh really annoy 'em-"

_Shows signs of pleasure at idea of violence._

"No!" Hagrid tried to explain, looking anxious now. "I mean, even a dog'll bite if yeh bait it. Thestrals jus' have a bad reputation 'cause o' the death thing. People used her think they were bad omens, didn' they?"

Umbridge didn't answer, instead she turned to the nearest student and asked in a ringing voice, "Do you find, that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?"

Pansy Parkinson had tears of laughter in her eyes, as she tried to respond, "No…because….well…it sounds…like grunting a lot of the time."

Umbridge scribble on her clipboard. The few unbruised bits of Hagrid's face flushed, but he tried to continue as though he had not heard Pansy's answer.

"Er right, so Thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' sense o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh want ter go. Tha's why we use 'em to pull the school carriages-"

"Assuming they can understand you, of course," said Malfoy loudly, and Pansy Parkinson collapsed into a new fit of giggles. Professor Umbridge smiled indulgently at them and then turned to Neville.

"You can see the Thestrals, Longbottom, can you?" she said.

Neville nodded.

"Who did you see die?" she asked, her tone indifferent.

"I do hope," Percival said loudly. "that such uncouth behaviour is not demonstrative of the whole British Ministry. I had heard that they had rather better manners." He glanced sideways at her, noting her pause.

"What do you think of them?" she asked Neville, waving her stubby hand at the horses, who had now stripped a great deal of the carcass down to the bone.

Neville shrugged, "They're alright, seem quiet enough."

_Students are too intimidated to admit that they are frightened: _Umbridge muttered making another note on her clipboard.

"No!," said Neville, looking upset. "No, I'm not scared of them!"

"It's quite alright," said Umbridge condescendingly, patting Neville on the shoulder with what she evidently intended to be an understanding, smile.

"Well, Hagrid," she turned to look at him again, speaking in that loud, slow voice once more. " I think I've got enough to be getting along with. You will receive" (she mimed taking something out of the air in front of her) "the results your inspection" (she pointed to the clipboard) "in ten days' time." She held up ten stubby little fingers, then, her smile wider and more toad like than ever before beneath her green hat, she moved to depart the clearing, but she was stopped by a firm voice.

"Madame Umbridge, you placed your hands upon my person without invitation."

She turned to look at the boy who had spoken. Neville drew himself up to his full height.

"That is inappropriate behaviour in a Professor of this school. If I were you I would expect to hear more on the matter," Neville turned away from her a clear sign of dismissal.

Her face now puce in anger the horrible women bustled away.

"Well done Neville!" Harry said quietly, earning a small smile from his friend.

"Gran rather likes Hagrid, she thinks he's funny. When I tell her she'll know what to do."

As they walked back to the castle it was almost like old times, Hermione walked with them, still seething about Professor Umbridge.

"Oh it's not fair," she complained with a sideways glance at Harry. "That really wasn't a bad lesson at all- I mean when you compare it to the Blast-ended Skrewts. Thestrals are fine - in fact for Hagrid they are really good."

"So are you actually agreeing with Umbridge Hermione. Cause it sounds like you are saying that usually Hagrid is terrible but this once he was ok?" Ron asked, with a frown.

"Nooooo," Hermione hedged. "I just meant they were really interesting, and sure Professor Grubbly-Plank might not have shown them to us until NEWT level, but, well, they are really interesting, aren't they? The way some people can see them and some people can't! I wish I could."

Harry stopped walking suddenly and stared at her. "Do you?" he asked her quietly.

She looked flustered for a moment then horrorstruck.

"Oh, Harry - I'm sorry - no, of course I don't - that was a really stupid thing to say."

"I wish no-one had to see them ever," Harry whispered out hoarsely, Percival, stepped closer and wrapped Harry in a hug. While Ron, reached out and squeezed Neville's shoulder.

"Oh, hope that's alright mate?" Ron asked to break the tension. "You know the touching thing?"

Neville just reached out and shoved Ron sideways, "You're an idiot Ron."

Really wanted to put this in, but it just didn't seem to go with the flow, so I'll try adding it here. Please give feedback, if this does or doesn't work. Am still looking at a missing scenes fic, because there are some from much earlier I wish to add.

This fits in just after Harry's detention with Snape.

-cut-

"Mutt!" Snape called immediately he spun out of the floo into the kitchen of Grimmauld place. "Mutt. Where are you damnit!"

"Hold Your hippogriffs Sev…." Sirius registered who was speaking. "Snape? What are you doing here it's a school night?" he asked in astonishment, as the other man burst into the parlour

"Something is wrong with Harry?"

"What happened?" Sirius asked not even attempting to squash the burgeoning panic, rising to his feet.

"He hugged me!"

Sirius stared at the man, and blinked. "He hugged you?"

"Yes. After detention he hugged me said thankyou and left. It was very odd," Severus was astonished that the other man wasn't more shocked. "I think he is sickening with something."

"Let me get this straight. You are worried because he hugged you?"

"Yes!" Severus nodded emphatically.

"In fact, you are so worried that you think he is ill, and rushed over here to let me know?"

"Yes!"

Sirius started laughing, only Severus's glare managed to get him to stop.

"What do you want me to say?" Sirius replied to the glare.

"If he is not sick then why did he do it!? And why are you not more shocked and screaming and yelling and things?" Severus waved his hands around.

"You have to understand where he has come from," Sirius started to explain.

"I understand. He comes from the same place I did!" Snape protested.

"No," Sirius shook his head, and seeing the other man start to build up to protest. "Severus, no he didn't. He comes from the same place as I do."

"He wasn't molly coddled!"

"He was until he was fifteen months," Sirius refuted, "and so was I and then it changed." Sirius shook his head. "When Regulus was born, mother changed, she was always cold. Father wasn't but he was never there, always away on some business trip. There was no softness in this house. No hugs, or cuddles or soft touches. No love. Until you were older you still had your mother and you knew that she loved you."

An image formed in Snape's mind, his mother picking him up from where he had fallen over, she had knelt down, and held him so close that he could feel her heartbeat. Her warmth keeping away the chill wind. A gentle hand wiped his tears away and then she offered to kiss his grazed hands better. It was a magic kiss she had said, and sure enough the moment her lips touched his palms, his wounds had been healed.

"Neither Harry nor I have any memories of that kind of love and softness. Harry was a very tactile baby, always wanting to be held and cuddled. He gave kisses to everyone who walked in the door, even if I was in my Animagus form," he smiled fondly at the memory of the expression on a six-month-old Harry's face after he had given Padfoot a large open-mouthed kiss. "Then he was taken to a place where he was kept locked away from everyone else, no touches unless they induced pain. He wants that contact Severus. The softness that he doesn't rememeber having experienced before."

"He surely can't expect such softness from me!"

"No. I rather think he sees something similar in you and was trying to give it to you, instead." Sirius laughed outright at Severus's shocked expression. "I actually don't know why he hugged you. He was always a loving child, maybe Percival being around and talking to the healer has bought that to the fore again. Or perhaps he just wanted to thank you. Does it matter."

"No student has ever hugged me before!" In fact, he had made himself so unapproachable that they rarely came to him for any reason.

"Now," Sirius looked at his….friend. "Just exactly when did you start calling him Harry?"

\- cut -


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: There is a small amendment to the previous chapter, where Sirius swears in to the Wizengamot. I realised just after I posted that Albus Dumbledore had been removed from the Chief Warlock position, so I have adjusted for that. Feel free to re-read that if you like, or not, it won't affect the plot in any way at all.

: Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate every one. They give me focus and inspiration and even help to clarify all the ideas I have floating around in the very strange device that is my brain. Thank you.

The first inkling Harry had that something was wrong was the smug look on Umbridge's face as they walked in that morning. So, he approached the table with caution. The second was the odd smell that was emanating from the tea.

"Perce, does this smell funny to you?" he held his cup out.

Percival shook his head, "I can't smell a thing."

"Here Harry give it to me," Neville held out his hands to take the cup. He inhaled, "Aren't you allergic to Elderberries?"

"Ah huh," Harry agreed.

"Well don't drink that then, it's Elderberry tea."

"Eww," Harry pushed the teapot away. "Oi! Angelina," he called up the table. "Do you have normal tea up there?"

"Yeah, Harry," she looked at him at little oddly as he scurried over and stole the whole teapot, when there was one already clearly sitting in front of his place at the table.

He offered his fresh cup to Neville to check again, when it was declared normal black tea, he drank deeply. "Ah, now the day can begin."

After draining his cup down, Harry looked around at the people gathered in the hall. While he didn't see Umbridge's scowl, he did catch the devastated expression on Hagrid's face. Apparently Umbridge had not waited the ten days before giving Hagrid notice of his probationary status, she had announced it loudly as he entered the Great Hall for Breakfast. As more students arrived the news spread around the room like fiendfyre. Harry made a note to visit Hagrid soon, the large man was quite obviously upset, perhaps he would accept some coaching in suitable topics for class. Not that it would help what with Umbridge's already known prejudice to half-breeds.

A flutter of wings overhead signalled the arrival of the mail, and Harry copped a dollop of bird poo on the shoulder of his robe.

"Argh! Ruddy birds!"

As he wandlessly banished the mess, he was grateful it hadn't landed in his second cup of tea. With the mail came a school owl carrying a note from the Headmaster. Harry wondered what he had done to garner the man's attention when he had been so obviously ignoring Harry the entire year.

_Dear Harry._

_I require your attendance at your earliest convenience._

_These days I find myself craving Jelly Babies._

_Sincerely_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry showed the note to Percival.

"Do not go alone Harry," he urged.

"But you have Runes when I have a free period. Who can I ask?"

"McGonagall as your Head of House, or if she refuses then Flitwick. If neither are available, then we can mirror call Sirius and see if he or Aunt Sera are available. If they can not then I will skip my lesson and come under your Cloak."

"He can see through the Cloak though, he did in my first year."

"That was just an ordinary cloak though, not the real one. It is still worth the risk."

Harry nodded and noticing that Professor McGonagall was seated at the teacher's table. Deciding that there was not time like the present, he pushed aside his uneaten meal and made his way to the High table.

"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall," he called her attention away from her food. "The Headmaster has requested I meet with him, and I was wondering, you would come with me, please?"

"I hardly think that is necessary Potter," she looked at him sternly. Really she had so much to do, there was still that pile of paper work Albus had left for her, not to mention this years group of seventh years were particularly rambunctious, there was no way she could leave them alone for a second or who knows what they would get up to. She knew that Albus had not treated the boy right, but he hadn't done it deliberately so surely there was no need for Potter to be making such a request.

Though he wondered how much of a support she would be to him against the Headmaster, Harry continued trying to persuade her, "But Professor, he has no reason to contact me regarding my schoolwork. I am up to date on all my work and my grades have improved this year. Besides it's in the school charter that a student who has been called to the Headmaster's office is to have their Head of House in attendance for propriety's sake."

"Very well," she sounded displeased at the imposition. "When does he wish to see you?"

"His note said at my earliest convenience, so I guess that would be during my first break today. Which is the lesson before lunch."

"Hmm, I will be in class with the Seventh years at that time, my only free spot today is immediately after lunch."

"Oh, I have Charms then. I guess, I'll have to ask someone else. Thank you anyway," Harry sighed and looked around. It was not really a big surprise, she had never listened to him before. Besides as the deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration teacher she was doing three full time jobs so it was no wonder she never had any time. He moved up the table to where Snape and Flitwick were conversing. "Excuse me Professors, I was wondering if either of you would be free, to come with me to see the Headmaster, just before lunch. Professor McGonagall is unavailable."

The two teachers looked at each other.

"I do have the sixth years then, but I could set them an assignment," Flitwick mused. "They're a fairly independent bunch."

"I am free," Snape said. "Do you know why he wishes to see you?"

"No, Sir. My work is up to date, and I haven't done anything wrong that I am aware of."

"Very well, meet me promptly at the bottom of the Headmaster's staircase after your last lesson. Do not be late."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry gave a small smile as he turned away.

Once Harry had moved out of earshot, Filius Flitwick voiced something he had been thinking more on since the start of the year.

"You know I find that as time goes by, he reminds me more and more of his mother," Flitwick mused, with a sideways glance at the Potions Master.

"Hmm, indeed. I find that his work this year has improved greatly so that it is merely poor instead of abysmal. Perhaps given enough time he will match her brilliance."

"Why Severus," Flitwick, grinned. "I do believe that was very nearly a compliment."

"Don't tell the boy. His head is already big enough as it is."

"Did your Gran write back?" Ron asked Neville as they noticed that Harry was making his way back from the teacher's table.

"Mmm, she's going to talk to the Minister about it," Neville picking up his fork.

"It didn't stop that cow from placing Hagrid on probation," Dean commented.

"Was never goin' to," Ron said as he swallowed a mouthful of toast, "One," he held extended the index finger of his hand that was holding his knife, "by the time that she got the message it would have been too late anyway, and two," he raised his middle finger, "the only complaint she can bring forward that will be listened to by the Minister is about the treatment of Neville. He'll ignore any other complaints about Umbridge herself as being childish bias. The best we can hope for is that Neville will miss out on whatever the horrible detentions she's got planned are."

"That's not fair," Dean grumbled. "I know Hagrid's lessons aren't…..like some of the other teacher's, but it's Hagrid. Harry had it right in second year. It's not Hogwarts without Hagrid."

"No, but it's the best we can hope for, and it's a start. We want to find as many complaints against her as we can. The more complaints, the better and from as many different students as possible. The more complaints the greater the chance that the Fudge will decide that having her here is more trouble than she's worth. Small steps until we reach our goal."

"How did it go?" Percival asked as Harry approached the table again.

"Alright. Snape is going to come with me." He bent to snag a piece of bread, but the food disappeared as he reached out his hand and Harry whined.

"Not McGonagall?"

Harry lifted a shoulder, and Percival raised his hand, but the smaller boy twisted out of the way, "Nah. She has seventh years during my only break today. Do I have time to run to the kitchen do you think?"

Percival checked, "Sorry Harry. Come on let's get to class. We'll see if we can get Dobby to meet us with a snack somewhere this morning."

Lessons passed quickly and it wasn't long before Harry was standing facing the Gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs to the Headmaster's Tower. Surprisingly he had arrived before Snape. Leaning his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and one foot resting on top of the other, Harry closed his eyes searching for that infinite feeling of freedom, the wind rushing through his hair.

"If you are quite done, Mr Potter," the droll voice disturbed his contemplation and before he opened his eyes, Harry knew that he would be facing the elegantly raised brow with just the one crinkle beside the eye, that signified the potion master's amusement.

"Yes Sir," pushing himself away from the wall he shook himself from head to toe. Then straightening, he turned to the gargoyle, "Jelly Babies."

"Allow me," Snape said as they faced the door into the Headmaster's office. With a brisk knock it opened, and he led Harry into the room. "I believe that you wished to see Mr Potter, Headmaster."

Dumbledore glanced up from the parchment he was writing. He pursed his lips in discontent, "Thank you Severus, you may go." He dismissed his Potion Master as he tapped the quill against the ink pot and then placed it down on a metal tray so that any drips would not spoil his work.

"I requested Professor Snape's attendance, Headmaster," the boy said.

What was the problem with the dratted boy now? Where was the boy who was so grateful to his Headmaster that he would accept what he was told without question? It would seem that Albus would have to think more carefully about the words he used now, if he wanted to be sure of the result. Still, Harry had bought Severus, which could just play in his favour. The thought was pushed away and instead the words, "Come now, my boy, your professor has many more important things to do than attending a boring meeting between us, don't you think?" were uttered.

"With all due respect, Sir."

Albus Dumbledore suppressed the urge to growl at the words. There was nothing respectful about that statement!

"I have been advised not to attend any meeting with you without my Guardian or Head of House present."

"Really, Harry!" He had put off dealing with that issue for too long! "I am your Guardian as you well know. So, seeing as I am present, Severus you may go," he chuckled benignly as if he had told some hilariously funny joke.

"Sir as Mr Samual McMillan told you that day at Ministry. You are not now, nor have you ever been my Guardian, Magical or otherwise."

"Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry. You are so young, so naive, so easily deceived. I'm am more sorry then I can say that you were taken advantage of by such a man." Dumbledore tutted, disappointedly. "Come now, you must realise that he was using you. He just wanted to get more fame for himself by saying that he represented you at trial." Here he dropped his voice to a pseudo-whisper, "When you and I both know that wasn't the case. He has been using your name to drum up more business for himself. No more of this pretending. Now off you go Severus," he finished in a firm loud voice.

Harry knew it was a lie of course, designed to make him furious, but he had spoken to McMillan several times and was comfortable that the man was not using him or his name in any way at all. Feeling like a broken record he said, "Sir, regardless of anything else the Charter says that when the Headmaster is meeting with a student, the student's Head of House must be in attendance. I the Head of House is unavailable then another teacher or other adult such as the Matron must be present."

"I hate to point out Sir, that at least three members of staff apart from myself are aware of this meeting. And as Potter so succinctly summarised you are required to have a witness present when meeting with any of the students. Given the current," he paused for affect, "political climate, it might be wise for me to remain as an observer. It wouldn't do for the Ministry to be able to make allegations of inappropriate behaviour."

Yes, perhaps it would be advisable, Delores would surely take great delight in making such an accusation. Albus let out a put-upon sigh, "Very well," he said before he turned to gaze upon the boy. "The news that I wish to give you is of a personal nature, such that I thought it best to advise you in privacy. Do not be upset with me when you find that you wanted to deal with the results of this meeting in private after all. You have been warned," he said sternly.

"Understood, Sir," Harry replied, gazing at the edge of the Headmasters's desk.

"Very well. It was bought to my attention a little over a week ago that Remus Lupin had apparently disappeared. No one knew where he was going or why he left."

Harry frowned, Sirius had said that Remus was off talking to the Werewolf packs for the Order. Had he been wrong, could Harry have misunderstood?

"In the small amount of free time I have had. I have ventured out looking for him. Knowing that you would greatly miss him should something untoward have happened." Dumbledore looked at his desk and shook his head sadly. "I am afraid…." his voice caught, then he gave a sniff. "I am afraid Harry…."

Harry looked up and was shocked to see that there was water welling in the corner of those cerulean blue eyes, not a twinkle to be seen.

"…..I am very much saddened to be the one to inform you that ….that Remus Lupin has died. It seems that he had been wandering in the countryside and he arrived at a farm late at night. To late I assume to ask permission to stay so he made his way into the shelter of the barn. Unfortunately, there had been a spate of robberies in the area. On waking early and discovering an unknown person in his barn, the farmer assumed that it was the thief, and killed him. It wasn't until afterwards that he realised that Remus was a simple traveller who had meant no harm."

"Remus!" Harry gasped, going pale, a tremble nearly dropping him to his knees. They had not even had the chance to see each other after reaching an understanding. He had hoped that they would spend Christmas getting to know each other but, Remus hadn't returned.

Severus agonisingly stifled the urge to reach out and put his arms around the boy. Merlin, sometimes he hated being a spy. It was another blow that the boy just didn't need. How much could one child withstand, and Sirius, had the old man even told him? He would be heartbroken! He made sure his face was blank, before he spoke.

"I do believe I should escort Mr Potter to his dormitory. It appears he will not be up to attending classes today."

"I am sorry my boy," the Headmaster said softly to the bereft child in front of him

A sobbed escaped Harry's lips, as he turned away from the Headmaster, determined that the man would not see his tears. With stilted steps he made his way out of the room. The Headmaster looked on outwardly sad but, inwardly chortling at how well it had turned out.

"Do not let this news temper your treatment of him Severus," Dumbledore warned sternly as Snape turned to follow the boy.

"Really Headmaster, when have I ever changed the way I treat a Potter?" Snape intoned, quirking one-side of his lips as if he were amused. Blast the man!

The corridor immediately outside the Headmaster's office was practically lined with portraits and Snape did not dare to place a hand of comfort onto the boy. Two corridors later, he felt safe enough to lean close and whisper, "To the Chamber."

Without acknowledgement, Harry straightened slightly and then sidestepped into a hidden tunnel that emerged a short way from the bathroom on the second floor. Harry pulled the Cloak from his bag, while Snape disillusioned himself, stating "The portraits may notice someone going past, but they will naturally assume it is a student."

A minute later they had crossed the space and were ensconced in the bathroom, fortunately Myrtle was not in residence. A quick hiss to reveal the staircase and they were descending the steps into darkness.

Worryingly, Harry was silent as they walked back into the chamber he did not blink as the sconces lit as they walked through the main hall, he just passed straight through the mouth and into the study beyond, pulling out the chair to sit with his head resting on his arms on the desk. Severus conjured a chair to sit beside him and hesitantly placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. It seemed that little bit of human contact was the trigger, and the boy broke.

"Dobby," Snape said, slightly uncomfortable in the face of such fierce emotion. The little elf began pulling his ears the moment he appeared.

"Master Harry," he said, letting go of his ears and grabbing the bottom of his shirt. "He needs his Percie!"

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "If you could…" but the elf was already gone.

A surprised Percival appeared, a moment later, with a sandwich in one hand, having been removed directly from the Great Hall. It took him only a second to assess the situation.

"What did that...Punk do?"

"He's dead!" Harry whispered into his arm.

"Who," Percival dropped to his knees on the other side of Harry.

"Remus," Harry raised his face. It was a heartbreaking sight, all swollen eyes, redness and tears. "He's dead."

Percival stared at him intently, reaching out to rub his arm, "Just when you thought you had gotten through to him."

"I thought…when we spoke last, he seemed to get it. He seemed to want to…..I wanted him to take me to Gringotts so we could go through the things he took from my parent's house and he could tell me why he had taken them. I thought he could be the Uncle my parents wanted him to be and now he's gone!"

"Tell me," he said, passing Harry a handkerchief to clean his face.

"Dumbledore said that Remus, was wandering for some reason and came upon a farm too late to ask for a bed for the night, so he slept in the barn. Unfortunately, there had been robberies in the area. The next morning the farmer thinking he was the thief, killed him. I didn't ask how, or what was being done with his body!"

A frown pulled at his boyfriend's face, "But…didn't you say that Sirius had told you that he was away on business for the Order?"

"Yes," Harry sniffled.

"So why would he be wandering in the countryside?"

"In fact, the Headmaster said, he didn't know what Remus was doing," Severus added.

"Your godfather would not lie to you about it," Snape said surely. "So why would the Headmaster lie?"

"Something doesn't seem right," Percival mused. "Dobby, can you bring Harry's mirror?"

With a tinkle the mirror rattled onto the desk. Harry picked it up instantly saying desperately, "Sirius!"

It took another two calls before the call was answered.

"Harry!" Sirius grinned. "Woah, why the face?" His mood did an immediate one-hundred-and-eighty-degree twist.

"H…ha…have…you…" tears started flowing down Harry's cheeks again.

Percival gently relieved Harry of the mirror, "Have you heard from Lupin?"

"No. I raised the issue with the Headmaster at the Order meeting last week. He denied knowing where Remus was or why he had gone. He also declined to look for him. I was planning on heading out this week, if I hadn't heard from him by tomorrow."

The mirror was passed to Snape, "Se…Snape, you're with the boys?"

"Yes. We are down in the Chamber. Harry got called to Dumbledore's office this morning. Albus told him that Remus had been killed in an accident," he said succinctly.

"No!" Sirius went pale.

"Something does not feel right," Percvial reiterated.

"You think he is lying?" Snape postulated.

"I am not sure, but I think it is a definite possibility. We know he was already lying about not knowing what Lupin was up to. Could he not also be lying about Lupin's death?"

"But what would he get out of it?" Harry asked, his interest peaked.

"I thought the same thing in the Order meeting. To be honest Harry, I think it is you. He encouraged me to go looking for Remus. If Remus and I were both to disappear, he still believes that he would be your guardian again. Not realising of course that it is still Seraphina and that I haven't applied for it yet. Then on the other hand if you are upset and believe that I knew and kept the information from you that might make you push me away."

"Can't have his little weapon, being out of his control," Harry said bitterly. "So, what do we do about Remus?"

"I will wait until tomorrow and then head out, if I still haven't heard anything. I know of the approximately location of two of the packs, or tribes that he was planning to head to. I'll go and talk to them and see if they know anything else. In the meantime, Harry, you need to act suitably upset, but I would keep our doubts close to your chest."

Harry nodded, "I can do that."

"Severus, please look after them. I have no doubt that Dumbledore has plans for Percival as well."

"I will ..Black," Snape responded hesitantly.

"It's ok, Sir. I'm sure we will be fine," Harry assured quickly, as the mirror surface became reflective once more.

"No, Har…Potter. No, it's just…" Severus seemed a little perplexed, eyes flicking to the mirror.

"It hit me like that the first time he did it as well," Harry snickered.

"Well, it seems that you are feeling better Mr Potter," Severus checked the time. "However, even if you are excused from classes, I believe that Mr Graves still needs to make it to his next class."

"Yes Sir," Percival squeezed Harry's shoulders. "Hopefully Hogwarts will make an exit near the Charms classroom. Come on I need you to open the exit."

"Harry," Ginny sidled up to him in the common room, Harry instantly knew that something wasn't right. It was written in her body language and the tone of her voice. "I missed you at lunch, Harry." She even pouted, which was not like Ginny at all.

"Um, I had some bad news today Gin, and I needed some time alone," Harry replied uncomfortably, looking around for Percival or Ron, both of whom were unfortunately still in class.

"You know you can tell me _anything_," she fluttered her eyes at him, and Harry drew back in shock. Ginny didn't seem to notice.

"Ah…..oh look there are the twins," Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and waved them over urgently.

""ello Harrykins,"

"And our dearest Ginevra."

"Fred, George," Harry nodded to each.

"Go away," Ginny shooed them with her hand, and then slid the other around Harry's shoulders, causing him to flinch violently.

"Ah, Gin?" Fred frowned.

"You should unhand that young man," said George.

"You don't know,"

"Where he has been,"

"And I've hear rumours that,"

"His better half, is pretty,"

"Quick with a wand," finished Fred.

"No! Harry's all mine!," Ginny gripped him tighter. "She can leave my Harry alone." She wrapped her other arm around him, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder

"Ginny, please. You know I only see you as a sister!" Harry insisted somewhat desperately, not liking the matching set of amused looks on the twins faces. "Did you have something to do with this?" he hissed.

They raised their arms in surrender.

"Not us!" they said in unison.

"Well, help me then!"

"What will you give us in return Harry?" said Fred.

"It's the rules of reciprocity," said George.

"I am going to skin Bill, for giving you that Muggle dictionary!" Harry complained. "How's this, I won't tell Percival that you sat by and watched this happen!"

Ginny was now pressing loud, open mouthed kisses to his throat, causing Harry to cringe at the strange wet sensation. Surely it was not hygienic!

The twins looked at each other, "Nah. Not good enough."

Harry's face went red, as Ginny slid her hand across his chest and started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Suddenly the windows started flaring and the fireplace flared wildly.

"Ouch!" Ginny withdrew her hand suddenly. Harry bolted, up the stairs to the boy's dormitory and they heard the door slam shut.

"What happened Gin," Fred asked curiously, watching his sister cautiously as she blew on her hand.

A wicked grin spread over her face, "Harry got hot!"

Hermione giggled from behind the book she was pretending to read. Well, she had been reading it, it was just that she had stopped for a moment to see how the curse, no that was such an ugly word. It was no more than a hex. No, even less than that it was just a jinx really. It was called Puck's curse, when cast on someone it made them fall in love with the first person, they laid eyes on. No one was going to get hurt. It was just ….encouraging them to behave the way that they should. Besides it wouldn't last long, only a week or so depending on how much strength she put into casting it. Perhaps she should cast it on Lavender, or Parvati as they walked passed Crabbe and Goyle, those girls were beginning to annoy her, with their glares of jealousy in the dorm and the way they giggled about Ron, after they had done their Divination homework. Yes, that would be perfect, and it would only last a week, then they would stop talking about Ron.

She sighed happily. She knew it was meant to be, her and Ron, Ginny and Harry, all one big happy family. Yes, on the night they graduated Ron would propose to her. He would be the stay at home dad looking after the children so that she could go out and work. Perhaps in the Minister's office, which she would be offered straight out of school of course. Then later she would be the Minister of Magic. Ginny and Harry, of course, needed to marry and have children sooner. Like the Headmaster said, who knew what would happen with Harry and Voldemort? And the Potter name needed to be continued after all. If he didn't pass away in the conflict then Harry would be an Auror, just as he had always dreamed. Molly wouldn't mind them getting married so early. She had been telling Ginny for years what a lovely couple she and Harry would make. Harry and Ginny were just being stubborn, but Hermione knew what was best for them, and this little …..spell would just help things along.

With a little _'hem', _Hermione opened the book again. Surely there was another useful spell in it somewhere. Really, she did have an essay or two to write, but that could wait until she finished this chapter. She was the brightest witch of her age after all, and none of the teachers would be bothered if her assignments were a just little overdue.

"Harry," Percival called pushing open the door. Ron following closely behind.

"Hey," he closed the book he was reading. "Just finished catching up, so I'm not behind."

"Did you want to go and see Hagrid before dinner?"

"Yes," Harry packed his things away hurriedly. Tucking his Cloak into his bag as an afterthought.

"I'll come next time," Ron said, dropping his bag onto the floor, and flopping onto his bed.

They found Hagrid standing beside the doors into the Entrance Hall, waiting for a crowd of Ravenclaws to pass. He was still as heavily bruised as he had been during their first lesson after he returned and there was a new cut right across the bridge of his nose.

"All righ', you two?" he said trying to muster up a smile but managing only a kind of pained grimace.

"Are you OK, Hagrid? asked Harry following the big man as he lumbered out onto the grounds.

"Fine, fine," said Hagrid with a feeble assumption of airiness, he waved a hand, narrowly missing a frightened looking Ravenclaw who had obviously stopped behind the others to ask Professor Sprout a question. "Jus' busy, yeh know, usual stuff - lessons ter prepare - couple o' salamanders got scale rot - an' I'm on probation," he mumbled.

"We heard this morning at Breakfast," Harry admitted with a wince. "Did she say why?"

"No' yet. Apparently, she'll be round. 'S' no more'n I expected to tell yeh the truth. Yeh migh' not've picked up on it, bu' that inspection didn't go too well, yeh know…anyway," he sighed deeply. "Bes' go an' rub a bit more chilli powder on them salamanders or their tails'll be hangin' off 'em next. See yeh."

He made to increase his stride, but Harry latched on to his hand in a futile attempt to pull him back. It did manage to get the large man's attention though.

"We're coming with you. I still want to ask where you have been," Harry asserted.

With a shake of his shaggy head, Hagrid gave a pained smile, "All righ' a cuppa tea firs'. Then the pair o' you can help me with the salamanders."

It took some finagling, but they managed to wheedle the story out of Hagrid. Both boys were horrified at what Harry's largest friend had been through, all on Dumbledore's orders. The hike through the wilderness, meeting and negotiating with the giants only for the one they were in talks with to be killed. Then the chase back through the wild country. Yet after it all Hagrid still professed that Dumbledore was a great man.

A thought came to Harry, with his head tipped on the side, he looked up at his friend, "Correct me if I am wrong Hagrid, but Dumbledore knew that you never killed Myrtle didn't he?"

"Aye. Great man he is, but he couldn't do anything else for me. Still he got me this job, didn' he."

"I know he was only the transfiguration teacher back then, but he became the Chief Warlock and the rest, not long after that didn't he?"

"Aye, lad he did," Hagrid agreed taking a big slurp of his tea.

"And in that position, did he or did he not have the power to arrange for investigations to be opened into past events where the outcome was in doubt?"

Hagrid's cup was placed on the table with a click, "Wha' are yeh sayn' Harry?"

"I wonder why he didn't open an investigation into both your case and Sirius's. See as chief Warlock, he would have had to go to all of the trials at the end of the last war. So, he knew that Sirius hadn't had a trail. And yet, even after knowing how close Sirius and my Dad were, he just left it there…." Harry swallowed harshly. "And then there's you. He was here. He knew that there was no way that Aragog could have killed Myrtle. Myrtle was unmarked and that's not the way that spiders kill is it? So, the evidence was right there. Plus Myrtle was and is available as a witness. When I asked her in second year, she said she turned around and saw two eyes. Two, Hagrid, not eight, or however many eyes Acromantula have. So, even though it wouldn't have convicted anyone else it would have cleared you, then you could have had a new wand and continued with your lessons, instead of hiding the …"

"N….o, Harry," Hagrid stood up abruptly turning away from the teen. "No, I am sure that Dumbledore, did what he thought was best."

"Yes, but was it the best thing for you Hagrid?" Harry asked softly.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Mr Hagrid," an obnoxiously sharp voice called. "I am here to give you the results of your review." The last was said in that same insultingly loud, slow voice that the woman had used in class.

"We'll duck out the back. No point in you getting into more trouble," Percival said. Harry nodded withdrawing his cloak. They were quickly covered and out the back door.

"He won't listen to me, will he?" Harry asked Percival plaintively as they approached the castle.

Sliding the Cloak off them and folding it up, Percival gave it back to Harry saying, "No. He has believed in the goodness of Dumbledore for such a long time, it will take something extraordinary to make him change his mind."

"Hagrid's just so kind. He doesn't deserve it. He could have been using a wand legally all this time. Did you know he was the first one to give me a present, and he showed me around Diagon Alley."

"Yes, so you said. What was the present by the way?" Percival raised a brow.

"Hedwig," Harry said with a smile.

"That does sound like him," Percival smiled "At least studying salamanders should be good."

"Hmmm, do you think we should try and help him with his lessons. We could give him a list of Ministry approved animals for studying."

"Do you think he would listen?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged.

"Perhaps we can offer then. However, after what we saw the other day in class, I doubt it will make any difference to Umbridge."

"All the more reason to get his name cleared. Not that I suppose the Ministry will be willing to look into it right now, with everything that is going on. Though perhaps as they would think of it as another means to discredit Dumbledore?"

"With Umbridge being the way she is on creatures, that might not work. You could just send a message to McMillan though, and get him to look into it for later."

"Yeah, I'll do that. At least I'll have done something, even if nothing comes of it for a while."

"You know you are quite amazing Harry."

" 'M not," Harry ducked his head shyly.

"You are. You have this enormous capacity to care about everyone. If I did not know about your affinity for Runes I would suggest that you look into healing as a career."

"Really, you think I would be good enough. I imagine that it's hard to get into."

"If you're interested you could talk to Madame Pomfrey about it. Just…do not do it, just because I suggested that you would be good at it. Only do it if you really want to."

"I've never really thought about what I wanted to do before," Harry mused.

"Most fifteen-year olds haven't."

"Are you going to….do you still want to be an Auror?"

Tipping his head up to look at the clouds passing over head, Percival thought for a moment. What did he want to do? Death and Magic had sent him back to look after Harry and help to renew Magic. What did that mean exactly? How could he achieve that? Sure, in the short term it was encouraging Harry and his friends to focus on magic, and rituals and to help Harry defeat Tom Riddle but beyond that?

"I don't actually know," Percival admitted. "Maybe I could be a politician." The corners of his mouth turned down at the thought.

"Don't sound so happy about it," Harry gently pushed against his arm. "Maybe we will think of something else? And we will leave the world changing to others."

"Yeah, maybe."

The Great Hall was warm, bright and above all loud. They arrived with the last of the students and made their way to the Gryffindor table. The only seats available were next to Ginny and Ron, who were sitting on opposite sides of the table. Harry froze for a moment.

"What is that matter?" Percival hissed under his breath.

"Ginny was acting weird in the common room earlier."

"So, sit next to Ron then," Percival shrugged.

Neither noticed the eyes following them from further up the table.

"Hey Ron, can I borrow the notes from…"

"It's alright Harry. I have copies of our class notes for you," Hermione said loudly with a grin.

"Thanks Hermione, but I like Ron's notes better. They're a bit easier to understand." Magic help him, but he did not want to be indebted to her for any reason.

"Of course, they are, but they don't have all the extra information that's in mine. Come find me in the common room, later and I'll let you borrow them," she flicked a strand of her hair back over her shoulder.

"No thank you Hermione. I'll be just fine," Harry stated more firmly, turning to greet the others at the table, ignoring the muttered 'I was just trying to help' that drifted over the table.

It wasn't long before the platters appeared before them and everyone started filling their plates.

"So, where did you get to this afternoon?" Ron asked. "Instead of classes I mean."

"Dumbledore gave me some bad news, and I needed some time to process it," Harry said.

Ginny reached across the table and took Harry's hand, ignoring the fact that he was still holding his fork, "It was terrible Ron." She gripped tighter as Harry tried to pull his hand away, looking in some concern at Percival.

"I think you can let go of him now, Gin," Ron said. "Harry looks all better now. And I don't think he wants to discuss it at the dinner table, or have his fingers broken."

Reluctantly she released Harry's hand.

"I might need your help after dinner Harry," Ron shoved a fork full of Shepard's pie into his mouth.

"Why?" Harry waited for Ron to swallow.

"Well you know Iris Midgen and Veronica Burbage?"

"Yeah, the second years?"

"Yeah," Ron leaned over the table, and said in a quiet voice. "They had detention with Umbridge this afternoon. They turned up in the common room just before dinner. She did something to them. I don't know what exactly but they are both bleeding from their hands. I wanted to take them to Professor McGonagall to make a complaint and then to the hospital wing but they both insisted that they were really hungry and wanted dinner first."

"And why can't you take them?" Percival asked curiously.

"It seems," Ron's eyes flicked to Ginny, who had unbuttoned the top button of her shirt and had her arms crossed on the table, pushing up her bosom as leaned across the table. "That I might need to have a discussion with the twins about something."

"The twins denied involvement earlier," Harry said. "Perhaps a trip to the hospital wing as well?"

"You sure it wasn't…?"

"They didn't seem to be lying."

"Right well, I guess I need to figure that out as well then," Ron nodded. "So are you right to take Iris and Veronica?"

"Shouldn't it be another Prefect?"

Well, they don't know the ones from sixth and seventh year and they trust you more than….." Ron shrugged.

"It's no problem," Harry nodded.

"I could help you," Ginny offered.

"Ah no thanks Gin, I'm sure Perce will be happy to come won't you."

"Sure, I'm all up to date on my assignments," Percival agreed amicably.

A frustrated girl just two seats up, fumed as she sat there. Harry just could not see what was right in front of him, the obstinate boy. And why hadn't those wretched girls come to her for help? After all she had done for them!

"I've had enough, so I'll go and get the girls," Harry said, pushing back from the table.

He drifted over to where Iris and Veronica were sitting with the other second years and crouched down next to them.

"I hear, you girls had a rough afternoon," he said softly. They nodded. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"She made us write lines," Iris said quietly.

"That doesn't sound too bad," Harry frowned.

"There was no ink," Veronica said, "It used our blood."

"It what?!" Harry gasped, and looked at Percival aghast.

"Let me see," Percival asked. Iris lifted her hand and unwrapped the strip of shirt that she had tied around it, there on the back of her hand in raised wounds, was written '_children should be silent'_. "Black Quill," he looked at Harry. "It's a dark magic item, usually used for signing contracts. Overuse will lead to scarring and in this case will bind the girls to what they have written. Did you clean the quill after you finished?" Both girls shook their head. "And she now has their blood. They are a restricted item, that only Gringotts and some Law firms are permitted to use and then only for the signing of contracts."

"Well, I see that Professor McGonagall has left the table," Harry said. "That means she should be in her office for the next hour or so marking papers. We'll go and see her and then…." He looked up and a person just leaving the table caught his eye, on a whim he said, "actually come with me quickly."

He hurried the girls away from the table and after the figure, with a confused Percival following behind. When they reached the hall he called out, "Colin!"

The figure stopped, "H…Harry?"

"Yeah, Colin do you have your camera on you?" The boy nodded. "I need you to take photos of something for me, is that alright?" Again, the boy nodded though he carefully removed his camera from his bag. "Over here," Harry led them to an alcove.

Several photos later and a shocked Colin promised that he would give Harry copies as soon as he developed them and wouldn't speak to anyone else about what he had seen. And the group was on its way to the Professor's office.

"Have either of you been in here before?" Harry asked as he raised his hand to knock on the door. Silently both the girls shook their heads. A firm 'Come in' was heard through the door, which Harry then pushed open and held it for the girls to enter the room beyond.

Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk, marking papers, from a pile that was held down by a tartan biscuit tin. She put her quill down as they entered, looking more drawn than usual.

"I had hoped that we were going to have a quiet year Mr Potter. After the news that you received today, I had thought that you would be spending the evening with your friends. Please explain the meaning of this invasion?"

"Somethings are a bit more important, Professor and this isn't about me," Harry said solemnly. "Umbridge.."

"Professor Umbridge, Mr Potter," McGonagall chided him.

"Mmm, that's the one," Harry refused to say it. "She put Iris and Veronica in detention today for…"

He looked at the girls and smiled encouragingly, "for breathing too loudly, Professor."

"And in the detention, she made them write lines, with a…"

"She is their teacher and has every right to give them a detention," said McGonagall flatly.

"She made them write with a …."

"There is very little I can do," McGonagall said cutting him off.

"Black Quill!" Harry all but shouted over her.

"What?!"

"She made them write lines with a Black Quill," he said again.

"Show me," she insisted.

The girls unwrapped their hands again. Looking, every one of her years, the Professor shook her head and said in a rough voice, "There is very little I can do, things being as they are with the Ministry. She is in charge of all detentions. Remember her speech at the start of term Potter?"

"The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts," Harry nodded.

"Good at least you listen to Miss Granger."

"Actually, it was Percival," Harry corrected. "What can we do?"

"She is trying to provoke you Potter. Keep your head down and control of your temper."

"I meant for Iris and Veronica. I hate that they have been hurt because of me. I have to do something to help them!"

"Take them to the Infirmary, Madame Pomfrey will give them something to help with the wound and treat the pain. How many detentions has she given you?" she aimed the last question at the second years.

"Just the one," Veronica said quietly, though she then admitted, "but she said that if she didn't get the results she wanted then there would be more." She shivered at the thought.

"Don't even think about it," Percival scolded in a whisper as they walked out the door.

"I can't let her keep hurting them, and you know she will until she gets me to respond!" Harry hissed. In a more gentle tone he said, "Have you been to the Infirmary before?"

Both girls shook their heads. "Well you're lucky. I can't even remember how many times I had been by the time I was in second year. Madame Pomfrey, has threatened to give me my own bed," he joked as they turned another corner.

She waited, knowing that there was only one path from McGonagall's office to the Hospital wing. Surely they would not take long with the Transfiguration Professor, so any minute now they would appear right in front of her. She was excited to see what this new spell would do. All it said was that it would bring forth the unconscious desires of the person it was cast on. Surely that would solve everything. She pushed aside the worry of how exactly it worked and what would happen to the person, or how it would reveal those unconscious thoughts. It would be worth it in the end. Harry would realise that he was not gay, and had in fact just been a confused teenage. It was a little concerning that it was called the sleeping curse, but Hermione figured it was only a curse because people often did not want to know what they desired in the depths of their soul. Facing such truths about oneself could be rather confronting. That was alright because she would be there to help Harry through it all.

There was the sound of footsteps in the corridor, that ran passed the alcove she in which she was hiding, no, strategically located, in. A quick peek showed the group approaching. She would have to be careful, there was a warning about not casting it on an immature brain, so she absolutely could not hit those two girls. Harry was fifteen, so his brain should be sufficiently developed.

Another peek, they were just there.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Raise wand.

Goose bumps burst into being across his skin, as they entered the corridor. There was an alcove to the left just before the staircase. His eyes flicked briefly to the side, a habit from the days when he needed to make sure there were no hidden assailants. It paid off as he saw the flash of a spell, judging the trajectory, he leapt forwards, knocking the girls and Harry clear. Then there was the sound of tearing and his world went black.

Harry gasped as he was shoved forwards, he tucked his limbs in to be sure he did not hit Iris or Veronica. As he rolled to his feet, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see Percival tumble over the guard rail of the forth floor.

"No!" he screamed running to the railing. "Arresto Momentum!"

The spell shot from his wand, but collided with the moving staircase.

"No!" Harry screamed again as that same staircase struck Percival and shunted him sideways onto the third floor.

"H..Harry," a little voice piped up from behind him.

He turned to look into the terrified eyes of the two girls. Beginning to panic he wondered what he could do, he needed help! In desperation he tried a spell that he hadn't had the chance to practice as yet.

"Custos Expecto Loquentes," Prongs appeared in front of him. "Go to Professor Snape and tell him that Percival Graves is badly hurt on the third floor, please come quickly!." Then he was racing down the stairs as the staircase slotted into position. Halfway down he paused and turned back. "Wait here, I'll be back shortly."

The girls nodded, clinging together.

"Right," he turned and sprinted the rest of the way, sliding to his knees next to Percival, who was splayed out on the floor, legs bent at a peculiar angle. "Perce!"

There was no response.

"Perce, please!" Harry reached out a hand, it was as he touched his boyfriends shoulder that he noticed it. There was a slowly spreading pool of blood, forming underneath his head.

"What happened?" the deep voice of the resident Potion Master asked.

"I…I don't know?" Harry stuttered. "Two of our second years had been hurt in detention with Umbridge. Ron was busy with Ginny, so I volunteered to take them to see McGonagall and then to the Infirmary. We had left McGonagall's office and were just about at the Hospital Wing, when I was pushed from behind, the girls were knocked forwards and then I saw Percival falling over the railing. I…I tried to slow his fall, but the stairs moved. They hit him, he landed here."

"And the second years?"

Harry's eyes, raised to the floor above, "I didn't know if I should move him. His neck…."

"Hmm, Mobilicorpus," Snape rose to his feet smoothly.

"Sir, he is bleeding!" Harry worried.

"Do not worry, head wounds bleed profusely Harry. Madame Pomfrey will look after him. Come now."

"Yes Sir," Harry stood and followed his Professor, walking along side the floating Percival.

Iris and Veronica were waiting at the top of the stairs. Harry's stomach dropped as he registered the tears falling down their faces. He gave them both a quick hug before they hurried the rest of the way to the Infirmary.

"Poppy!" Snape called as he pushed open the door.

"Severus?" Madame Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office.

"I have some patients for you," he said and without fuss began explaining what had happened.

Harry stood still at the threshold, holding hands with the girls. His eyes did not take in the two rows of beds, covered in crisp white sheets, he could only see the black haired boy that was floating three feet in the air as he was manoeuvred and placed on a bed. A single drop f blood fell staining the pillowcase.

Blood!

His heart pounded, feeling like it was about to burst through his chest. Anyone could lay their hands on Percival's blood.

"Professor," his voice cracked.

"Potter?" Snape frowned at the interruption.

"Percival was bleeding, Sir. Do you need me or can I go and clean it…."

Understanding blossomed over the faces of the adults, "It's alright Potter. I cast a spell to clean it all up after I picked him up. There will be no blood left behind."

That reassurance allowed his racing heart to settle a little.

"While you are here. Tell me what has happened to Iris and Veronica?" Pomfrey asked.

He relayed the situation, noting the concerned glances exchanged between the Matron and the Potions Master.

"You may be best to deal with that Severus. I am sure that young Mr Graves will need all of my attention for the next while."

"Perhaps you should come with me….Potter. Merlin knows I do not have the best rapport with Gryffindors."

"With some Gryffindors," Harry corrected. He followed Snape, well aware that the man was trying to keep him busy as well, so that he did not focus too much on what was happening with Percival.

"I do not understand," the Matron muttered.

"What is it, Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked.

She pursed her lips, "The broken legs, dislocated shoulder and humeral fracture were easy fixed. The concussion…." her frown deepened. "I do not understand. It is just not responding as it should. It is as if he has been enchanted, rather than concussed."

"His head was definitely hit by the staircase," Harry said softly.

"Yes, my spells showed the swelling, and some bruising in his brain. There is a potion that is given which resolves the swelling. Usually the patient regains consciousness briefly and then I put them into a healing sleep so that the bruising may be reabsorbed by the body, combined with a nerve regeneration potion it resolves the situation relatively quickly. You might remember from your third year. You were out for three days. Percival however has not regained consciousness, which is what I am waiting for. Was he hit with a spell?"

"Not that I know…."

"I saw a flash of light," Iris said from her bed. She had her hand soaking in a bowl of ointment that Snape had made.

"What colour was it?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"I think it was white," the girl offered. "Did you see?" she asked her friend.

"No, sorry."

"Well that was still very helpful. Another ten minutes should be enough I would think," Madame Pomfrey said, glancing at the Veronica's wounds. "Any idea what the spell could be?"

Snape shook his head, "I will do some research, in the meantime I believe I have papers to mark."

"If you think of anything let me know."

With a nod he stalked out of the room. Harry dragged a chair to Percival's bedside.

"He will get better won't he?" he asked the Healer.

"I'll have a better idea, when we find out what the spell was Harry. Though I can say that for now ,other than whatever the effects of the spell are, he will be fine. How about you take those girls back to the common room, then you can come back here and sit with your friend until curfew."

"Alright."

Harry helped the girls clean off the ointment, exposing fresh scarless but slightly reddened skin.

"That looks much better," he noted.

"Feels better too," Veronica agreed.

Back in the common room, Veronica and Iris were only too happy to tell their friends all about their adventure and how strangely nice the Potion Master had been, as he had created a potion just for them. There were disbelieving noises made from the group, and Harry was called in as a witness. Yes, Professor Snape was very clever to be able to make up potions on the spot that worked so well, and yes sometimes he was not that bad, even though he seemed like a dragon in class. Perhaps that was because Gryffindors were a bit noisy, and the dungeons echoed, or perhaps it was because potions could really hurt you if they went wrong, and he was a bit worried about that. However if they studied hard, then he would have no reason to pick on them in class, which was what the tutoring was for, and everyone should make sure they had read and understood the additional reading material that was on the book list in first year. Oh it was not there? Well, Harry just happened to have one which he could copy for them all, which was awfully convenient. Twelve Gemini curses later and Harry was free to move back to his own group.

"What happened?" Ron asked as Harry moved across and collapsed in the air chair across from him.

"I'll head back to spend the rest of the time till curfew there in a minute," Harry finished the retelling. "Before I go I wanted to know what had happened with Ginny?"

"Pomfrey gave her a cleansing potion," Harry winced. "Yeah, not pleasant she is in one of the private rooms in the Infirmary. But Pomfrey wasn't sure it would help. Said that some of the symptoms didn't seem like a love potion, but none of the usual spells like Confundus, showed up on her tests."

"Still not like Ginny is it. I thought we had gotten passed all that."

Ron nodded, "Go on, don't worry about her just now. Go and check on Percival. Take your Cloak in case you are late coming back."

"Will do."

"Hurry up and get well Percival," Harry whispered, not turning as the door creaked. Madame Pomfrey had stepped out earlier to pick up some fresh potions that Snape had made for her, so he expected it was just her returning.

"Well, well, well Mr Potter, what are you doing and out after curfew?" a sinister voice said dripping with delight.

Harry quickly checked the time, "There is still another half an hour until curfew, Madame Umbridge," he said diffidently, not turning to look at her, "and it only takes ten minutes to reach the tower from here."

"_Hem,_" she made that strange throat clearing noise.

"Madame Pomfrey shouldn't be long if you need something for your throat. She's just popped out to pick up some potions from Professor Snape."

"I am surprised that there is only one person in the Infirmary this evening," she said with a hint of malicious delight. "I was sure that there would be at least, one or….two others."

"Despite the moving staircase, injuries are not that common at Hogwarts, Madame Umbridge," Harry tried to find that feeling of freedom and not focus on the feeling of wanting to strangle the woman.

"_Hem. _Oh no, this wouldn't be from anything as mundane as falling through the trick step Mr Potter. This would be from naughty, little children with dirty blood who need to be punished."

"First of all," he finally turned to glare at her, "you do realise that they are both half bloods and secondly it says in the Hogwarts Charter that a teacher cannot discriminate against any student because of their blood. All teachers are bound to it in their contracts."

"Ah, but I'm not a teacher am I," she smiled displaying her shark like teeth. Looking at them up close Harry wondered if they were real or if they were some kind of denture. Wait! Did Wizards even have dentures? Or did they just re-grow them with skele-gro? Was that even how skele-gro worked? "I am an employee of the ministry, so I have never signed a contract with Hogwarts at all. And for that infraction Mr Potter, you have just earned yourself a week of detention with me, and a lifetime ban on playing Quidditch." Humming happily to herself she pranced off, nodding to Madame Pomfrey who had just walked in the door.

'Right' thought Harry, 'This means war.'

Not even sure where this scene should go.

\- cut -

She adjusted the hat upon her head and straightened her skirt as she approached the office.

"Excuse me Ma'am, did you have an appointment?" a young woman seated at a desk to the side of the door asked.

"I do not! But Cornelius will see me," she said firmly.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but without an appointment, I can't let you in. The Minister is very busy," She flicked open a large diary that lay on her desk. "His next available appointment is three weeks from Tuesday, shall I book you in?"

"No, you will not need to for I will see him today," Augusta said firmly.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but…"

"Cornelius!" August reached out with the bird shaped top of her cane and rapped it against the closed door. "Cornelius! You open this door at once, or it will only be worse for you!"

"Really Ma'am, I'm going to have to call the security wizard, if you continue…."

"Never mind, Elise," the Ministers voice issued from his now open door. "I am sure I can find time for Madame Longbottom."

"If you're sure Sir," his secretary sat down again.

"Come in Augusta. How can I help you today?"

"Leave of with the sycophantic behaviour Cornelius, I have known you since you were in nappies."

It was somewhat satisfying to see the man swallow uncomfortable, Augusta had never known what her sister saw in the man.

"I am here about that nasty piece of work that you had placed at Hogwarts."

"I am well within my rights to appoint a teacher when the Headmaster and the board can not find one, Augusta," the man stated indignantly, finding his backbone.

"Madame Longbottom, or Dowager Lady Longbottom, thank you very much Cornelius. Be that as it may, you are still required to find an appropriately qualified one."

"Delores is qualified!" he protested.

"As what, a certified bootlicker?! She did not even take Defence at NEWT level, Cornelius, how is she in anyway qualified to teach it?"

"It can't be that hard. She has a Ministry approved book, she tells me the children practically teach themselves."

"She's a qualified teacher then is she?" Augusta, raised an elegant brow. "Clearly she has time to teach, what with all her other duties."

"She is managing quite well actually, there hasn't been a single incident since she arrived," he defended his Senior secretary.

"Really not a single incident?"

If Fudge had bothered to look, he would have noted the expression on the woman's face and been extremely concerned.

"None at all."

"Hmm, well Cornelius, next time she lays her hands upon the Heir to an Ancient and Noble House be aware that she, and you, will be called to accounts before the Wizengamot."

"Lays hands on," Cornelius blustered. "She would never!"

Augusta placed her cane across his desk as she leaned over it, "She laid hands on my Grandson, Cornelius. It was not in detention, but in another teachers class that she was reviewing. She mis-quoted students and acted in a deplorable fashion and she has been seen in solitary conversation with several of the other Heirs all of whom are underage. It is NOT appropriate for an employee of this Ministry. I suggest you bring her in to line quickly. It will only reflect poorly on you if you do not."

"I…I'll speak to her," Cornelius stuttered thoroughly cowed.

"Good," Augusta straightened her hat again, and paused with her hand on the door handle. "Oh and Cornelius. I would think on the last Wizengamot meeting. Things are changing. It might be wise not to be led astray by unsavoury individuals. My sister would never forgive you."

With a nod to his secretary, she made her way out of the Ministry.

\- cut -


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Edits for chapters 4 and 5 are up (no need to go and re-read, as there is no change to the plot).

: I have added a double cut scene at the bottom of chapter 5 (these are confrontations between Sirius and Molly), if you wish to take a look.

: Quotes ahead. If you have seen it before I do not own it. Of course, I have played around with it as usual (and it is a long way out of sequence with the canon timeline)

Back in the dormitory, Harry flopped onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. He felt the couch sink beside him.

"Is he going to be ok?" a soft voice asked.

Lifting his head Harry, turned and looked into Neville's worried eyes, "Sorry Nev, what did you say?"

"Percival, is he going to be alright?"

Harry shrugged, "Physically yeah, but he's in some sort of enchanted sleep, and Madame Pomfrey doesn't know what caused it."

A strong hand clasped his shoulder. "She'll figure it out, she always does," Ron reassured, moving around the couch as he joined them. He ended up sitting on the floor in front of the couch and pulling a low table over to act as a desk, for his homework.

"Do they even know who did it?" Neville asked.

"I don't know. They didn't talk about it near me. If I get the chance, I'll ask Snape tomorrow. Personally, though I think it was Umbridge, only she must have been aiming for me. Just before it happened the girls and I were pushed out of the way."

"What makes you think it was her? I mean she's a right toad but she's still a teacher."

"She told me that she was not bound to a Hogwarts contract the same as the other teachers. And besides that, you know how you asked me to look after Iris and Veronica? Well the detention Umbridge put them in was aimed at getting me riled up," Harry confided.

"But that's ridiculous," Neville protested. "How is her giving a detention to two second years going to rile you up."

Ron's face screwed up, "They were bleeding afterwards Nev, that's how."

"Yeah," Harry leaned closer to his friends. "She made them write out lines with a Black Quill."

While Neville's face lost all colour, Ron's screwed up in confusion, "A what?"

"Black Quill," Neville said. "It's a dark item that uses your blood to write in and bind your magic in contracts."

"She told them that she would give them more detentions if she didn't get what she wanted out of the first. She came into the Infirmary, while I was visiting Perce."

"Oh Harry, what did you do?"

"I _may_ have managed to get a weeks' worth of detention," he admitted.

"What are we going to do with you? Percival's only been asleep for like five hours and already…."

"Harry?" a female voice called.

He turned to see Hermione approaching, "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I just wanted to say, I heard about …Percival. What happened to him is terrible. Are you ok?"

"I'll be fine as soon as he is better," Harry answered tersely.

"Oh, good," she looked as if she wanted to say something more, however something stopped her, perhaps it was the stares of the three boys. So, she gave a little '_hem'_ and made her way up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"That was odd," Neville frowned, as he watched her leave.

"You don't think it was Hermione that did it do you?" Ron asked. "She's been awful this year."

"No, this seems to have been deliberately harmful. I can't believe that the Hermione we knew would descend to that level," Harry shook his head, "no matter how bad she has become."

"I don't know Harry; she did have that book. Dark objects like that tend to skew a person's morality if they aren't careful," Neville said thoughtfully.

"We've no evidence she has had more than that one."

"While that potions book is mostly alright it still had that one spell in it," Ron added.

"Well yeah, besides that."

"She did poison you," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but she didn't mean to," Harry protested.

"When you look at it by itself, that might be true, but this second attack, if it was her, then she is in a lot more trouble than we thought."

"You already thought she was in trouble?" Neville asked.

Ron looked at Harry for approval, "We found out that she has had access to the Potter library, since at least first year."

"But," Neville looked at Harry in shock. "You didn't even know!"

"Nope. We have suspicions, and they all point to her being manipulated by someone."

"It was the Headmaster wasn't it? He was supposed to be your guardian," Neville deduced.

"Huh, can't hide anything from you, godbrother of mine. Yes, we think so. We have managed to take away his access to the Potter properties. Which reminds me I meant to have Sirius look at Potter manor. I guess it will have to wait until the summer now."

"So, what are we going to do about Umbridge," Ron asked suddenly.

"I was thinking we should prank her somehow. We need to get justice for Iris and Veronica."

"Are you sure that Percival would approve of this course of action, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Um, let's just say what he doesn't know can't hurt me," Harry grinned.

"He will find out."

"Yeah but by then it will be all over, and it's better to ask for forgiveness then permission. We probably shouldn't plan it down here were there are so many witnesses," Harry said. "How much homework have you got to do Ron?"

"A bit. I was with Ginny in the infirmary for a while."

"I'm all done I might head up to bed."

"Night."

Harry threw himself onto his bed. Knowing that Percival would not be just a yard away in his own bed, made something itch in Harry's hands. He knew he wasn't tired enough yet to go to sleep, but his homework was all done, and he was not in the mood to study. What could he do?

Then he remembered, the last time that they were down in the chamber, Dobby had bought back his parent's trunks. Where on earth had he put them? He would die if he had lost them! Ah, there they were in the locked compartment of his own trunk, sitting side by side. He took them out and sat the on the bed in front of him with shaking hands. Which should he start with?

There was only one choice. He knew next to nothing about his mum. He pulled her trunk closer, enlarged it with a quick _Engorgio _and flipped the lid open. Surprisingly it was a three-compartment trunk. Her name was handwritten in indelible ink on the inside of the lid. With a finger he traced the letters, wondering if she had written them herself or if this was the handwriting of one of his grandparents. Briefly Harry wondered why his Aunt had never really spoken of them.

The first compartment was stacked full of spare bits of equipment. There was a section just for cauldrons and stirring rods, another for what looked to be items that she had charmed including a muggle alarm clock (which Harry immediately took out and set on the chest of drawers by his bed), two note books labelled Potions, and four more labelled Charms.

Leaving the Charms books for a moment, he opened one of the ones labelled Potions. It was not her writing on the trunk after all. The _L_'s in her name were completely different but the _Y_'s were similar, just like his own. His heart skipped a beat, at the realisation that they all drew their _Y_'s the same way. It was amazing the work she had done. Developments on potions to combat infertility, one to treat depression, a healing potion that had – for Elves- written in brackets and on the back page of the second book, notes and workings for adjustments to the wolfbane potion.

"_Gemini!" _Harry looked at the copied books for a moment. "Dobby," he continued when the Elf had appeared. "Please take these to Professor Snape. Make sure he is alone when you give them to him. Tell him. Just…tell him…" Harry was not at all sure what he wanted to tell the dour man. "Um, tell him… I thought…he..might like copies." It was not quite what he wanted to say, but it just did not feel right to say, 'Thanks for not being such a git this year, and I know you knew my mum when you were young so I thought these potions books of hers might make a nice gift for you'. Or 'Thanks for everything that you've taught me this year and for all those times that you saved my life. I really kind of think of you as my grumpy Uncle now, only better than my real Uncle'. With an internal shrug Harry pushed the issue aside, he was sure that Snape would let him know if he had over stepped.

Pushing that thought aside he opened the first charms book.

With a swish of robes, he turned and sat at his desk. There before him sat the bane of his life, eighty-three first and second year's essays. Oh, how he wished he was in the muggle world with its short answer and multiple-choice questions, but no, he had to sit here and read every one. Maybe next year he would change the topics around. Yes, that was probably a wise idea for his sanity. If he was here the next year…

"Master Snakey Sir," a squeaky voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Yes?" Ah it was Potter's annoyingly helpful house elf.

"Master Harry, says he thought you might like these," the little Elf said cautiously placing two books on his desk. Promptly disappearing with a soft pop.

He recognised the writing immediately. How could he not? It might have been nearly fifteen years since he had last read it, but he had spent years sharing notes with the her, reviewing her assignments while she reviewed his, studying beside her. How had the boy come by them? Had he always had them? No, they must have been in one of the trunks. Why bring them out now? Surely, they would have been the first thing that he had looked at. What was the purpose behind the gift? Perhaps he should go and speak to the mutt? No, the last time he had done that the man had laughed at him! Any Slytherin worth his salt, would not give up something like this for no reason, but this was Harry. He needed to think like a Gryffindor, the boy had hugged him for Merlin's sake! Perhaps Harry genuinely just thought that he would like them. Something had changed, down in Slytherin's chamber they had forged a relationship that had gone from adversarial, tainted with the long-held resentment of the boy's father through mutual respect to something more. Almost, familial.

Perhaps, he should just look at them? A gentle flick of his thumb and the first was open. Ignoring all else he was drawn into her world of experimental and theoretical brewing. Did it really matter if the assignments were not marked until tomorrow? Apparently being locked inside for so long had stimulated her intellect and imagination. Who else would have come up with, or nearly come up with, a potion to force the Animagus transformation? The notes revealed the missing step which, the note at one side said, she had not had a chance to trial. Why had she thought of it anyway? Was it something she was considering, a means of escape from the long days confined with only Potter and Harry? Sketched into the margins was the outline of the doe that he knew to be her Patronus.

There it was. On the last page, her Magnum Opus. A work of pure genius. Though it was purely theoretical, because she had not been able to obtain the ingredients, the firmness of her hand spoke of a surety that it would work. The motivation behind it was clear. Then there was a gut dropping realisation that the Wolf was gone and would never know what she had set out to achieve for him. While he might not like the man himself, he could appreciate the tragedy of his condition. It had truly been horrible that someone had let slip about the man's condition the year he had worked at Hogwarts. Remus had actually made a passable Defence Professor. Snape resolved then and there to bring her work to fruition, even if it could no longer help her friend.

The pile of papers went unmarked as he set about ordering ingredients and scribbling notes on a spare bit of parchment. As each hour passed his certainty that he could make something out of notes grew. He would do it, in her name.

"What time do you have detention?" Neville asked as the three boys entered the dorm.

"After dinner," Harry, couldn't even scowl, knowing he had bought it on himself. "I might skip dinner to go and see Percival."

"I reckon Dobby would bring you food to the Infirmary."

"Yeah, if Pomfrey will let me eat in there."

"You should warn her that you'll stop in after detentions so she can have Snape make some of that potion."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, quickly jotting down a few answers to the Charms quiz they had been given that day. The sooner he got this work done the sooner he could go and visit Percival and see if Pomfrey had been able to figure out what was wrong with him yet.

Harry ignored the comings and goings of the others, working doggedly to finish his homework as possible, then he bolted out of the room.

"Harry."

He ignored the call as he dashed through the common room. In less than five minutes he was at the Hospital wing door.

"I don't think there is really any need is there?" the deep voice of the Headmaster drifted through the door, causing Harry to pause before he entered.

"His guardian needs to be notified Albus," was the insistent reply from the matron.

"We don't want an International incident over something so small, do we?" The Headmaster said placidly, then there was a small pause.

"I…what were you saying Albus?"

"Oh, nothing Poppy, just that you seemed a little stressed. I will leave you to it shall I?"

"Ye...Yes alright."

Harry ducked behind the plinth supporting a statue of Hippocrates, as the Headmaster exited the room. As soon as the old man had disappeared around a corner, he emerged and made his way into the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was standing looking slightly dazed by Percival's bed.

"Are you alright Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked.

She blinked at him in confusion for a moment, "Yes dear."

"Any further information on when he will get better?"

"No, Mr Potter. I am afraid not. None of us can figure out what spell was used, and until we do. I am flying blind."

"Oh. Did you tell his Aunt yet? I'm sure she could help," Harry suggested, interested to see what she would say.

"Oh, I don't think we need to do that just yet. We don't want and International incident over something so small, do we?"

"Is it alright if I just sit with him for a bit?"

"Of course, dear. There is no way of telling if he can hear what you are saying, but some people coming out of situations such as these report that have," she said and then wandered back to her office.

Harry watched her go, wondering at the way her words she had echoed Dumbledore's. One thing was for certain, he would be making sure that Aunt Sera was advised of both the injury and the issue with Madame Pomfrey, regardless of what Albus Dumbledore wanted. Surely, Seraphina would have access to resources that were beyond those available to Madame Pomfrey, especially when she was so clearly being influenced by the Headmaster. Perhaps it had been the Headmaster himself who had cast the spell.

After advising the matron of his expected detention and receiving a bottle of potion, Harry set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. When he knocked on the door she called, 'Come in,' in a sugary voice. He entered cautiously, looking around.

He had known this office under three of its previous occupants. In the days of Gilderoy Lockhart it had been plastered in beaming portraits of the man himself. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely that you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In Moody's, or should he say Barty Crouch Junior's, days it had been packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.

Now, however, it was totally unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicoloured kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed wondering if Marge had a similar collection but with pictures of dogs on them.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," his thoughts were interrupted when Umbridge spoke again.

Harry started and looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.

"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Harry said stiffy.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, waiting for him.

"Now Mr Potter I know you want to ask to for leniency given the injuries that have been incurred by your….._friend_," she said the word derisively, "however, I will save you from asking," she smiled at him smugly. "The answer Mr Potter is no. No, you will come back here every evening, missing out on visiting hours," she gave a little giggle. "Yes, missing out on something you want to do, will reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach. You may have found a way to silence the Daily Prophet, but those of us in the Ministry are aware of the nasty, evil, lies you have been spreading. Lying about the Ministry is treason Mr Potter, and for that you will be punished."

She reminded him of Marge and Vernon, standing there so arrogantly. Harry felt the blood surge to his head and heard a thumping noise in his ears. She watched him with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking and was waiting to see whether he would start shouting. But Percival had taught him well, and with some effort he pushed away his anger. Dropping his bag onto the floor beside the straight-backed chair he sat down.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter. No, not your quill," she added, even though he had not made a move towards his bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed him a long, thin black quill, with an unusually sharp point. He braced himself as it was placed on the table and he reached to pick it up. Imagining his magic, covering his hand in a layer to protect it from the oily feel of the quill.

Umbridge leaned over, with one hand on the back of the chair and the other on the table, so she could say quietly into his ear, "I want you to write,_ I must not tell lies_."

"How many times?" Harry asked with a credible imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to _sink in_," said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go."

She moved over to her desk sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. Harry raised the sharp Black quill and realised that not questioning the lack of ink, might raise her suspicions that he knew about the quill beforehand.

Deciding to play dumb he stated, "You haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Bracing himself Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote:

_I must not tell lies._

Even though he was prepared, Harry had to stifle a gasp of pain as the words were cut into his skin and his blood appeared on the parchment. He frowned at the red words; how many other student' blood had this evil woman taken? Did she know what she could do with it? Perhaps not. The way Dennis had been hiding his hand earlier in the year came to mind, she'd had his blood for four months and did not seem to have done anything with it. Was it that she thought that his blood was not worth anything or did she just not know the power that was in it? Was it a type of magic that had disappeared over time?

Harry looked round at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide toad like mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," said Harry quietly.

He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote _I must not tell lies_ and felt the searing pain in the back of his hand.

And on it went. Again, and again Harry wrote the words on the parchment. Again, and again, the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed and reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment. She had done this to twelve-year olds! This relentless torture. He took his anger and wrapped it like a protective sheath around himself pushing back at the compulsion that the quill was trying to bind him to.

Even though he knew it must be approaching curfew Harry did not ask when he would be allowed to stop. He knew she was watching him for any sign of weakness, and he used his defiance as a shield.

"Come here," she said, after what seemed hours.

He stood up. His hand was stinging painfully. When he looked down at it he saw that the cut had healed, but the skin there was red raw. It was horrifying to think how many times Iris and Veronica must have had to write the line in one detention to have already achieved an open wound!

"Hand," she said.

He extended it. She took it in her own. Harry repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly rings.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Harry left her office without a word. He walked up the corridor, then when he had turned the corner and was sure that she would not hear him, he withdrew his Cloak from his bag and ducked underneath. If she had bothered to drag him into detention and not release him until after curfew there was no way that she had not lined up someone to be around to give him another detention on his way back to the Gryffindor tower.

Sure enough, as he reached the first set of stairs there was the Seventh year Slytherin prefect leaning against the railing, glancing up the corridor expectantly every few seconds. Harry walked past quietly and made his way to the tower. Where he called for Dobby to bring him a bowl in which he could soak his hand.

Groaning as he pushed himself out of bed the next morning, Harry decided to forgo his usual exercise and head to breakfast. He was glad that he had made the effort to treat his wound before he went to sleep. His hand still ached a bit, but it had to be better than it would have been without it. When he made his way down the stairs, Ron was sitting in the common room staring around wildly looking for inspiration for his divination homework.

"How come you didn't do it last night?"

Ron, who had been deeply asleep when Harry got back to the dormitory the previous evening, muttered something about 'being distracted', as he bent over his parchment and scrawled a few words.

"Glad I ditched Divination," Harry smiled as Ron, slammed his dream diary shut. "Seems more trouble than it's worth."

They said goodbye at the top of the stairs so that Ron could head to the North Tower, I'll send Dobby with some breakfast," he promised.

Angelina was still in the Great Hall when Harry arrived.

"Don't forget Quidditch practice this afternoon, Harry."

"Oh. Um. Sorry but Umbridge has given me a lifetime ban. You'll have to replace me," he informed her meekly.

Angelina was not amused. "We need you Harry!" she said exasperatedly. "You have to stop getting in trouble."

"Given that she has been out to get me since the start of the year, I think we were kind of lucky that I got play as long as I did," Harry said. "Oh and get Ginny to try out. I've seen her playing at the Burrow, she's pretty good."

Angelina grumbled as she moved away.

Harry shook his head and moved over to sit next to Neville, "Well she isn't quite as bad as Oliver, but she's not far off it."

"How was detention?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally.

"What did she have you doing?"

"Lines, like we thought."

"At least it was only lines," Hermione said as she slid into the chair next to him. "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment really."

Neville opened his mouth but shut it when Harry frowned and shook his head. He was no longer close enough to Hermione to feel comfortable talking about the details of the detention. When they were alone, he would discuss it with Ron and Neville. Then when it was bad enough, he would get Colin to take photos and send them and the memories to Samuel McMillan, Addison Baldric, Sirius and Aunt Sera. Hopefully they could do something, but there was no point now when he had no evidence.

The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of Harry's hand became irritated more quickly now and was soon inflamed and red. Harry thought that it was unlikely that it would keep healing as effectively as it had for long, even with Snape's potions. Soon the cut would remain etched into his hand, he doubted that Umbridge would be satisfied even then. He let no gasp of pain escape him, however and from the moment of entering the room to the moment of his dismissal, at well past midnight, he said nothing but 'good evening' and 'goodnight'.

This time it was Filch waiting one corridor away from Umbridge's Office, fortunately Mrs Norris was nowhere to be seen. He paced back and forth in the corridor, muttering to himself about manacles and dungeons. No doubt he would appreciate the detentions issued by Umbridge. Still it was an easy enough matter for Harry to duck around him and continue on his way.

Ron was still awake when Harry returned to the Tower, making his way straight to the Dorm room and pouring another measure of Snape's potion into the bowl.

"What's tha' for 'Arry?" Seamus asked.

"Black Quills are made to make magical contracts; the potion helps to prevent one forming around the words Umbridge is making me write, as well as easing the pain, and healing the cuts a bit."

With a glance into the bowl at Harry's inflamed skin Neville said, "we really need to do something about that hag."

"Oh Merlin, do you know what we should do?" Ron said.

"What?"

"We should turn her into a toad!"

"Why?"

"Because she's already halfway there!" Ron grinned obviously pleased with his deduction.

"No," Harry shook his head.

"But why," Ron whined. "It'd be great."

"Yeah, but where is the punishment? We turn her into a toad, she hops around for a few hours and then is back to herself none the wiser. While she's a toad she will think as a toad. No, if we could do it, it would be to turn her into a toad, but leave her thinking as a human."

"I think that might be a bit beyond us just yet."

"Yeah, but what about the twins?" Ron suggested. "They already make sweets that make you make animal noises instead of talking," he paused as if frozen. "Oh….oh…what if we can make her stay human, only have her thinking she's a toad. The beauty of it is that she will act like a toad, we can all take photos, which someone is sure to send to the Daily Prophet, and she won't even know what she has done."

"We'll get the twins on the case," Harry nodded. "But we need to think of more. I think it's going to take a combined case of her acting crazy as well as using the Black Quill before the Ministry will move her on. I wonder if we can somehow get Peeves to follow her around? We could try bribing him with something, maybe dungbombs, he seems to like those."

The idea kicked off the twins' creativity, they loved it. If they could make it work, there was a whole line of products they could see. They could develop products so that not only could a witch or wizard sound like an animal, or act like an animal but perhaps they could make one so that you could take on the certain attributes of an animal, say the ears or a tail. They already had made a product that would make you sprout fur. Perhaps, they might even find a way to turn you into an animal fully. The kids had not suggested it yet, but they could certainly see Umbridge spending some time as a toad. Yes, there were so many possibilities. Shortly after that meeting, the twins disappeared from the common room and were not seen again, except for in lessons, for a week. Lee assured everyone, when he was asked, that they were still alive.

It took the whole week of detentions before the words appeared to be cut deeply in his skin, and Harry could feel his magic warring with the compulsion to obey them. He thanked the Gods for Snape's potion. He barely waited for the door to shut behind him as he left that final night before he covered himself in his Cloak. She had obviously had words to the prefects as each night they had moved closer to her door. He had only just wrapped the material around himself when Draco Malfoy came around the corner. Huh, that was interesting the fifth-year prefects were supposed to be on the early rotation of the roster. What did it matter in the end? Of course Malfoy would be siding with that evil bitch.

He shuddered remembering the way she had licked her lips as she inspected his hand and said "Yes, I think I have made my point Mr Potter."

But she had not let his hand go, she had squeezed it tighter digger her nails in leaving crescent shaped wounds on his skin, until he met her eyes. That was when the pain hit, burning through his scar. If she was not one of Riddles, she was well on her way.

She smirked at him, as he suppressed a hiss, "It hurts doesn't it," she whispered seductively, rubbing her thumb over the words. "You may go." As he opened the door she lifted her thumb to her mouth and licked it.

His first instinct was to run but with Malfoy right in the middle of the corridor that was just not an option. Instead he took a chance and leaned against the wall. Breath in, breath out. He had not really had a moment, just to be, since the previous weekend. He had been completing his homework hurriedly in his spare lessons, meal breaks and by getting up early, but after using all his energy fighting the message of the quill, he did not have any left for anything else. Breath in, breath out. He realised he had not been attending to his Occlumency, ah, no wonder his scar had hurt.

A quick glance showed that Malfoy was now muttering to himself. Standing still watching him could be entertaining. Harry grinned, before sinking in behind his shields. There was a massive crack up the side of the protection around the horcrux. It had the same feel as the quill, well that explained why she had wanted to take control of detentions. He took the time to rebuild the casing and file some of his recent memories including the ones of his detentions. Making a note to have Colin to take photos. He could then send them to….Oh Shite! He was suddenly struck, he had not called Sirius or written to Aunt Sera about Percival!

Malfoy was now, walking backwards and forwards across the corridor muttering to himself. Two steps and he would be on the opposite wall. Harry sped past making the decision that he would head to the Infirmary. There was no way, the amount of potion he had left was going to be enough.

"Madame Pomfrey," he whispered as he opened the door.

It took a moment before the light came on and she appeared, "Mr…Potter?"

He stumbled over to her, a little lightheaded now. "It still hurts," he admitted softly.

"Come here," she led him over to the bed next to Percival. "Up you get, I'll be right back."

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Master Harry Sir?"

"Can you please get my mirror, mailbox, parchment and quill from my trunk? Um and if he is still up can you ask Colin if I may borrow his camera?"

Two pops later and the items were all sitting on the table beside him, including Colin's camera. He pulled the parchment closer, quickly scribing a letter to Seraphina, sending it through the box as soon as it was written. He just hoped that she was back in the country. He grabbed another piece and began writing to McMillan.

"Mr Potter," Snape had appeared. "What mischief have you been up to now."

"Hang on Professor." He signed the letter and put it aside. Picking the mirror up he called, "Sirius!"

"Pup, It's late! What are you calling for? Is everything alright?"

"I had a run in with Umbridge and she gave me a weeks' worth of detention. I had my last detention with her tonight. I have been using your potion Professor but….I don't think it will be enough this time."

He revealed his hand.

"Oh Pup! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I kind of forgot, between Percival's accident, the detentions and homework, I haven't had much energy or time. It's only because I had a few moments to practice my Occlumency that I remembered I hadn't told you yet. Nor have I told Aunt Sera about Perce, though I just sent her a letter. Here Professor, do you think you can take a photo? Be careful, it's Colin's camera!"

"Does Mr Creevey develop the pictures himself?"

"Yes, and he already has some photos of Iris and Veronica's wounds as well. Should we write to their parents?"

"I assume you are sending them off to Samuel McMillan? I will ensure that a letter is sent to their parents but also advise Mr McMillan that he may be the first contact, just in case the letters go astray."

"Yes, Professor. I've written the letter already to go with them, so I'll add that as a postscript." He reached for his quill.

"Right, good. Now back up a little and tell me what was that about Percival?" Sirius asked. "I'm going to see Seraphina tomorrow, she arrived back yesterday."

"We were bringing two second years to see Madame Pomfrey after Umbridge had used a Black Quill on them in detention."

"What in the Gods name is going on in that school Severus?"

"I do not know, the Headmaster seems to be….." he sighed, "I had thought that maybe he was focussing on the bigger picture, or perhaps given his age he was dementing, however the more things that happen the more it appears that perhaps we have all been deceived by him."

With a wave Sirius signalled for Harry to continue.

"Just as we reached the staircase on the fourth floor, one of the girls, Iris I think, said she saw a flash of light. I was shoved from behind and pushed the girls out of the way, I looked over to Percival just as he went over the railing. I tried …really I did Sirius, I tried to slow his fall, but the staircase moved and…and it hit him. He…he went flying….I didn't think about looking to see if anyone was around, I just ran down the stairs as quick as I could and sent a message to Professor Snape. Sirius, there was so much blood! Now he won't wake up. Madame Pomfrey can't fix him 'cause she doesn't know what's wrong, and…"

"Have you got a calming draught Severus," Sirius said sharply over Harry's distressed ramblings.

The Potions Master was already summoning a phial from the potions cabinet.

"Drink Harry," he pressed the glass into the boy's hand, Harry complied.

"Have you found anything Severus?"

"The spell has left a residue, but apart from that it is proving difficult to identify. Dumbledore knows more about it but is not saying anything. I suspect that he knows who the culprit is."

"I bet it's Umbridge," Harry muttered.

Snape shook his head, "No it was a student, that much is clear. I have researched the location of all of the staff, at that time Umbridge was providing _training instruction_ to several of the teachers in the staff room," he said the last with palpable derision.

Sirius looked horrified, "Where would a student even find that sort of spell?"

Severus shrugged, "Who knows, such books have long since been removed from the library. I have also investigated the location of every one of my Slytherins and I can guarantee that it wasn't one of them."

"Slytherins aren't all bad you know," Harry said sleepily.

"Indeed, we are not," Severus' lip twitched as Harry lay down. "Now put your hand in here."

He placed a crystal bowl on the bedside table, Harry practically groaned as he placed his hand in it.

"What if she comes in tonight?" Harry asked in a small voice, earning a look from Snape.

"It is unlike you to be scared?"

"She…some of the marks on my hand are from her not the quill," he admitted. "And when I looked her in the eye, it made my scar hurt. I checked my protections and found a large crack."

"Have you…." Sirius began to ask.

"As soon as I was out of the room. Draco was waiting just outside, so I hid for a bit, and used the time to look at them."

Meanwhile Severus was inspecting his hand. "The potion will get rid of those marks, but I will discuss an ongoing treatment with Healer Addison. I believe I can make a paste that will help remove the scarring from the quill."

"Thank you."

"Now if there are no more surprises. I will cast a detection ward around the pair of you. That way if someone comes in, I will be notified."

"I would appreciate it, Professor."

When the task was done, Harry bade the man goodnight and he left.

"Harry?"

"Mmmm."

"I'll be up to visit you tomorrow, ok?"

"Mmmm."

"Alright, Goodnight son."

He stood watching the boy as he slept. Originally, he had thought that with a couple of spells he could build on what his apprentice had done. Oh yes, he had recognised the spell, and the good thing was that he was probably the only one in the Isles that could. He had been mildly impressed that the girl had the power to make it work and that she had not been caught. He wondered what the deepest desire of the boy was and how it could be used.

His intention had been to look into the boy's mind. There was still a niggling doubt about tattoo and the boy's wand. If he could use the right spells, he could peek in and answer the question once and for all. Not to mention knowing the boy's desires would undoubtedly be the means to his control. A twist here, a prompt there and he would have another pawn under his control. Teenage boys were so predictable in their desires, it was unlikely Percival Graves was any different.

A movement caught his eye, he had not been aware that another student was currently requiring Poppy's attention. Taking a step closer he tried to see or feel who it could be. Then he felt it, the ward, but what did it do? Who had placed it? They were clever, able to completely hide who had cast the spell, that meant they had probably cast it with runes. Unfortunately, that meant it could have been cast by anyone from fifth year Runes up. Stepping forward he felt the ward activate, nothing happened. Perhaps one of the fifth years then, maybe they had worried about being disturbed overnight and had placed a silencing ward around their bed. They were facing away from him, and were rather petite, must be one of the fifth-year girls, some of them were rather titchy.

There was the scuff of a step at the door.

"Madame Pomfrey?" the baritone voice of the Potions Master echoed through the space. He glanced around, "Oh Headmaster, what are you doing up so late?"

"Just doing rounds. What are you doing out, Severus? Surely you need to be up early for lessons in the morning."

"Hmm, unfortunately a group of my Seventh years have finally realised that they have their NEWTs shortly and that their future careers are reliant on the results. They now need to face the fact that their ambitions are both within their grasp and at risk in equal measure. Needless to say, I now need to ask Madame Pomfrey to supply me with a half dozen calming draughts."

"You don't just make them up yourself?"

Severus Snape blinked once, "Headmaster, the school has a Healer for a reason. She is aware of the medical status of every student. Sometimes students are taking potions that I am unaware of. Female students in particular prefer to see the Healer, rather than speak to their male Head of House about some of the potions they require. Mixing potions is never to be taken lightly Headmaster."

"Oh well, I guess you had best get on then," the Headmaster smiled genially, and rocked on his feet.

"Madame Pomfrey!" Snape called out slightly louder.

This drew a sharp look from the Headmaster, "There are students sleeping here, Severus! Just go and get her."

This time his spy genuinely looked shocked, "Dumbledore. I am not entering into a ladies bedchamber uninvited!"

"She is the Healer, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled.

"She is a lady! What is concerning is that she has not yet emerged, as I know that there are several proximity wards that alert her one someone enters the room."

Dumbledore thought it most inconvenient that Severus should know that. He had of course taken them down so that he could enter the room with out her emerging. By the frown on his face Severus was considering the fact. Snape flicked his wand and uttered one of Albus' own spells. A doe shot forth from his wand, paused to take the message and disappeared. Minutes later the Deputy Headmistress appeared, still wrapping her tartan dressing gown around her in her haste.

"Sever….Albus? What is going on?"

"I came seeking calming draughts for my Seventh years, Poppy has not appeared. I have been her for perhaps a quarter of an hours and Albus was here already. I was worried that she might be unwell."

With concern printed clearly on her face, Minerva hurried to the door at the end of the room, which led to the Matron's office and then her chambers.

"What is going on?" the bleary-eyed woman asked, as she emerged.

Severus stepped forward and began to discuss his students.

"We will have to investigate the wards in the morning Albus." She covered a yawn with her hand. "If that is all. I think I will return to my bed. You should do the same Albus, you aren't as young as you used to be. Go on." She shooed him from the room.

Madame Pomfrey released Harry early enough the next morning that he had enough time to go to the Tower to shower and change his clothes before breakfast.

"Where have you been?" a voice demanded as he entered the common room. "You never came back last night. We had second years in here crying all evening, you might not like the attention but they look up to you and you need to set them a better example."

"For your information, Hermione. I was released late from detention, and became unwell on the way back so I went to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey only just released me," Harry paused briefly in his path to the stairs.

"Really?" the fifth-year prefect, looked him up and down. "Well you look alright to me. I'll be checking and if…"

"Oh, would you just shut up! I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you are NOT my mother. Madame Pomfrey is not going to tell you anything about me or my treatment. She is a Healer. She has taken vows. One of them ensures patient confidentiality. And before you ask, the reason I was in there is none of your business. Now excuse me but, I am going to have a shower."

He stalked up the stairs, refusing to listen as she continued calling out to him.

"Argh!" he groaned, flipping open the lid of his trunk.

"Are you alright? You never came back after detention?" Neville asked, as he pulled on his shirt.

Harry threw his clothes onto the bed, "Yeah, went to see Madame Pomfrey. She just let me go. Do you think we can prank Hermione at the same time as we get Umbridge or will that make it too obvious that it is us?"

"What's she done now?" Ron asked as he emerged from the shower.

"The usual, harassed me about where I was last night."

"It probably is too obvious, but we can save it for later. You alright?"

"Yeah, better than last night. I have to talk to Colin about…."

There was a knock on the closed door and the boy himself entered, "I…I thought you might want these." He held his hand out, there were several photos, showing the injuries caused by the Quill.

"These are perfect, thanks Colin."

The boy gave a megawatt smile at the praise and dashed out of the room to finish getting ready for the day. Harry grabbed the letter he had written he previous evening, folded it around the photos and posted it into the mailbox.

"At least I made one person happy today and it saves me from having to find him."

"You better hurry up and get ready, I'll wait down in the common room."

"Thanks mate," Harry grabbed his clothes and hurried in to shower.

"Did you even get wet?" Seamus asked when he joined the others a few minutes later.

"Yeah, but only just," Harry shook his head raining water droplets on them all earning him a chorus of protests. In some sort of unspoken agreement, they formed up around Harry for the walk to breakfast.

They sat grouped around him as well, effectively stopping Hermione from moving closer to Harry, though she glanced at him every few minutes. Harry had barely buttered his toast before he was interrupted.

"Oi, we've been looking for you!" Fred said as he grabbed Harry under one arm.

"Yeah, come right this way," George grabbed him from the other side, and they lifted him up and over the seat and dragged him from the Hall.

"Guys!" Harry protested feebly as they deposited him in an empty classroom. "All I wanted was a little toast."

"That'll wait."

"This is more important."

"We are geniuses."

"Or would the correct term be genii?"

"Sounds too much like Genie,"

"Right you are Forge, Geniuses it is."

"Yes, yes, you're both very smart," Harry said blandly.

"Oh, he agrees!"

"And he doesn't even know,"

"What we did yet!"

"I knew he was always,"

"Our favourite." The pair grinned at Harry; it was quite a frightening sight.

"What have you done?" It sounded slightly more accusatory than it should have.

"What have we done, he asked!" Fred looked at George in astonishment.

"Only created exactly what he was asking for, that's what!" They grinned at Harry again.

"What I….Oh!"

"Oh indeed, Harrykins," said George, pulling four brightly coloured vials from his pocket.

"This one," Fred pointed to the container on the far right, "Will make you sound like a toad."

"This one," George pointed at the phial next to it. "Will make you think like a toad."

"This one," Fred, tapped the next. "Will give you the skin of a toad."

"And this one," George touched the last, almost lovingly will give you the shape and size of a toad."

"In combination, they will turn you into a toad," they summarised.

"Wow…just wow! Have you tried them yet?"

The two looked at him, "Well I tried dog!" Fred admitted.

"And I did cat!" added George.

"Lee did spider," they shook their heads. "Strange lad, said it was really interesting though."

"No we haven't tried toad,"

"But the others all worked."

"Each lasts about two hours."

"Have you got enough to…"

George pulled another four vials from his pocket, holding them out to Harry with a grin.

"What do I owe you for these?"

There was that smile again!

"Just to test one product for us," George shrugged.

"No," Fred protested. "Think George, we could bargain for much more than that. What about, having a few Harry Potter endorsed products?"

"Oooh, or we could use a Harry Potter likeness in our….."

"Shush, that's not ready yet. What about….."

"No, too toxic yet. Then again…"

"Alright, before you two get carried away. I will test four new products for you. No more no less. No using my name or image in anything!"

"Done!" they nodded firmly and held out their hands for Harry to shake, and he had a sudden feeling of dread.

"Shite, I've got to get to class," Harry left the room quickly.

"Always, dashing off somewhere our Harry," said George staring at the doorway, through which Harry had just disappeared.

"Always so busy," agreed Fred.

"Pity he didn't take these with him," said George, looking down at the phials in his hands.

Just at that moment, Harry ran back into the room, snatched the eight phials out of George's hands and left again just as quickly.

"I was going to hold them to ransom," George pouted.

"Next time, brother next time," Fred patted him on the shoulder.

George frowned, "Forge? Did he say he had class? It's Saturday."

"Shite! Quidditch!"

"Did Harrykins just prank us?"

"Gred, I am so proud right now."

"Be proud later, Quidditch now!" They ran out.

Harry's mind was racing. The twins were brilliant, absolutely brilliant, but how on earth were they going to get her to take four different potions, well, really five? How could they use them to greatest effect? It was times like these that he wished that he was still friends with Hermione. Actually no, Ron was a great strategist, he would talk to Ron. He also had experience with dealing with Fred and George's pranks. He slid into the vacant next to Neville and tried to put it all from his mind and concentration on the game that was about to start. He hoped that the twins made it in time.

Angelina had cornered him mid-week, in the corridors between classes to thank him for pointing her in the direction of Ginny. She had apparently fitted well into the team. As a side benefit, the extra practices meant that Ginny had not had time to follow him around. There had still been some heated glances and eyelash fluttering but it did seem to be petering out, for which he thanked the Gods.

The Gryffindor team emerged from the locker room, complete with their beaters, which was a relief. He would have to be careful of any retribution that might occur, though he was hopeful that he could continue to distract them with pranking Umbridge. With the shrill sound of Madame Hooch's whistle, the players took to the air.

Two hours later Gryffindor took home the victory with Ginny catching the snitch. The pitch was filled with the rush of cheering Gryffindors as the other students poured from the stands back to the school for lunch. It took the Gryffindors some time to join the others in the Great Hall, but they did make it eventually. Harry sat with his back to the rest of the room, Ron on one side of him and Neville on the other. Fred and George had slapped him on the back as they walked past and congratulated him on a prank well played.

Boom.

The large double door giving access to the Great Hall were pushed open by Sirius Black with a crash. Then he smoothly stepped to the side. A woman appeared in the exact centre of the doorway, lit by the sun that flowed in through the front doors to the Castle. She was stunning, tall and elegant in her floor length robes of crushed violet, which made her skin glow and were joined together at her waist with a gold clasp. Several of the Purebloods gasped.

Harry turned at the noise, smiling when he realised who had arrived.

"Albus Dumbledore," her strong voice resonated through the room, easily audible to everyone.

"Sera," the Headmaster boomed back.

"I have told you before not to refer to me with such familiarity," she replied. "I believe we have much to discuss."

"Now Se…" Her hard look caused him to pause, and he corrected himself, "Madame Picquery while your presence honours us. You may not enter the school without invitation, so I am afraid you must leave."

However, the ex-President of MACUSA pulled no punches, "Can it, Dumbledore. What have you done to my Godson?"

Strangely he looked confused, "I am not sure what you mean?"

"My Godson. What have you done to him?"

"I assure you; I have done nothing to him. Now I will have Hagrid show you out." The big man stood.

"A guardian may enter the school anytime the child in their care is injured just as you are obligated to advise every guardian should the children in their care be injured in this school Dumbledore. Percival was injured and you failed in your duties. I can only assume that this is because you are responsible, now take me to my Godson."

"I am sure the boy is fine, now Hagrid if you would…."

"Take. Me. To. Him. Now!"

Harry stood, "Aunt Sera, I'll show you the way."

"If you ever prevent me from seeing my Godson again Dumbledore…" she glared at him as she turned to Harry. "Harry darling, how have you been?" As he reached her, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her from the room.

"Now if we could return to our meal."

"One second Dumbledore," everyone had forgotten that Sirius was standing by the doors.

"Ah, Sirius. Again, I must insist that you leave the grounds, if you could take Madame Picquery with you, I would appreciate my boy," he smiled genially, eyes twinkling.

"Oh you miss understand me Headmaster Dumbledore, I am not here to talk to you. I am here to talk to Delores."

"Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore clucked.

Sirius looked amused, "Oh? What qualification does she have Dumbledore? Her OWL and NEWT results are available for all to see at the Department of Education. I happen to have visited there before I left the Ministry today. I wonder what I found?" He tapped his chin. With a grin he looked at Delores Umbridge. "An A in defence at OWL level. A result that was too low for her to take it through to NEWT level. Which is a requirement for teaching is it not?" He grinned showing all his teeth. "Oh and no teaching degree either."

"Be that as it may, My Boy. Professor Umbridge was appointed by the Ministry, so you will have to take it up with them. It appears you have wasted your trip."

"I am not your Boy, Dumbledore," Sirius shook his head and practically stalked up the middle of the room, like an apex predator. He turned his attention to the Defence professor. "You have harmed the Heir of an Ancient and Noble house."

"Me?" she raised a hand to her breast and fluttered her eyelids shamelessly. "I am sure I never would."

"Let me be more specific. You have harmed my Heir."

"You are no Lord!" she scoffed.

"Oh, it appears you are behind the times, Delores. If you had read your master's last missive, you would know that I have taken up my family title. I am Lord Black."

"You were disowned!"

"Again you are behind the times, my mother may have thrown me out of her family, but the Lord Black at the time was my Grandfather Arcturus, who named me his Heir."

She blinked, slowly and licked her lips, "I have not hurt your Heir!"

"Professor Umbridge would never hurt me," a voice piped up from Sirius' left.

He turned to look and frowned at the blonde, "Why on earth would a Malfoy be Heir Black?"

"My mother is a Black," Draco said pompously.

"Cousin Cissa, ceased being a Black the moment that she ignored the Family motto."

"No, she didn't!" the blonde protested. "My father was a pureblood."

His statement was met with a shark like grin, "Except that the Motto was meant to honour the magic of family. When she failed to use the Black primacy over Malfoy to stop her husband from abasing himself before a man who was literally in the process of killing magic, she refuted the family."

"But I am the only male Black left. Therefore, I am the Heir!"

Sirius actually laughed, "You are not." He glanced around the tables, "There are four males of the Black family sat at the Gryffindor table right now."

"No there's not!"

"Yes, there is. Fredrick, George and Ronald Weasley, Grandsons of Cedrella Weasley nee Black. Not to mention that Neville Longbottom is the Grandson of Callidora Longbottom nee Black." All four boys blushed, as Sirius turned back to the front table. "Regardless, there is only one Heir and he has been injured. Consider yourself on notice Delores."

"I am sure this is all a misunderstanding, My B….Sirius. Isn't it Professor Umbridge?"

"Oh, yes Headmaster," the foul woman simpered. "I am positive that I have never injured the Heir of any of the important houses."

"So, you deny having Harry James Potter in detention, and using a Black Quill," there were gasps from the Ravenclaw table, "on him?"

"Oh but he isn't…."

"He is my Godson and Heir," Sirius said bluntly. "There will be a reckoning Delores." He turned on his heel, with an impressive swirl of his robes, and stalked from the room.

"Do you reckon he has been taking lessons from Snape?" Fred asked George.

"Indeed!"

Far to the South of the School, the midmorning light, filtered through the open window and onto the man's face. As had happened for the last six days, he flinched and groaned. This time though, this time he managed to open his eyes. Mouth sandpaper dry with eyes to match, he knew he did not have long. Tonight was the night, there was little doubt that his body would not be able to withstand the change. Burning pain was his world. Redness spread up his leg as the infection ran rife. There was a faint noise followed by a putrid smell. It seemed that the infection had become so great that it had pushed the knife from the wound in a flow of pus. Gagging he turned and spat bile onto the floor. His gaze fell onto the implement, stained with his own blood.

His mind turned the fact over, and over, and over. Somewhere in the fevered depths, an idea caught. He wriggled himself closer. Lying on his side, he managed to half bend and half roll into a seated position, with the knife mere inches away. More wiggling, he ignored the shooting pains through his leg, as the wound began to bleed anew. Careful positioning got him to a place where he could lean back and grasp the knife. It was raised and twist, there was a risk of cutting himself which he steadfastly ignored in favour of the small rubbing motion. The vibration through the ropes binding him, re-opened the wounds on his wrists. After an eternity they fell apart with a snap, and his shoulders burned as they finally moved freely.

Darkness greeted him like an old friend.

An hour later he returned to himself, as the chains rattled on the door to his prison. Quickly he placed one hand over the bracelet on his wrist and whispered his prayer with a sob. "There's no place like home." Just as the barn door was pulled asunder.

"Tell me everything Harry?" Seraphina asked the boy at her side as they made their way to the infirmary and tell her Harry did, helped along by her insightful questions. When they reached the door to the hospital wing, she knew what to expect.

Alerted by the Headmaster, Madame Pomfrey was waiting. She said nothing as the most powerful woman in the world entered her domain, the woman only had eyes for her Godson. She pulled the closest chair up beside his bed and took his hand, closing her eyes she lifted it to rest the palm against her own cheek. Releasing a shuddering breath, she opened her eyes and looked at the Matron.

"I will see his records now. As his guardian I am entitled to view them," she added when the woman appeared on the verge of protesting.

The papers were summoned and placed in her hand.

"I dare say that you will not understand them."

"Madame Pomfrey, did you know that before becoming the President of MACUSA I was an Auror? Specifically I was their field medic. A qualification that I only allowed to lapse, twelve years ago. Besides if I do not understand something then it is your responsibility to explain it to me. However, the notes seem clear. Though testing on this side of the pond seems somewhat different. then I am used to."

She drew her wand and cast a number of spells. Stopping when one produced a bell like sound. She hummed thoughtfully before casting a Patronus and sending it on its way.

"Who have you asked to come?" Harry said with great interest. "Do you know what the spell is?"

Aunt Sera shook reached out a hand and ruffled Harry's hair, "Not quite. Though I believe I have seen it before, and I know someone who should be able to identify it."

"Who?"

"Nicholas Flamel."

"But he's dead!"

"I beg your pardon?" Seraphina asked.

"He…he's dead. Dumbledore told me at the end of my first year."

"Why would Dumbledore know that Nick is dead?"

"He was his apprentice, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was, but they had a falling out. Some argument over the uses of Dragon's Blood, I think. They haven't spoken in years."

"But Dumbledore hid Mr Flamel's Philosopher's Stone here, and Riddle nearly found it, but I pulled it from the mirror. Which I realise was stupid now. If I had just left it alone, he would never have been able to get at it. And Dumbledore said that the stone had been destroyed, leaving only enough elixir for Mr Flamel and his wife to put their affairs in order and then he would die!"

"That is very strange Harry. Still I can assure you that Nick and Elle are still alive and well, as they were at one of the functions, I attended last week."

"Oh!"

"Any success?" Sirius asked as he strode through the door.

"Some," Aunt Sera replied.

"Sirius Black what are you doing in my infirmary?"

"I came to warn Umbridge to leave Harry alone, and to see how Percival was."

He stopped still, pausing as if to listen to some internal dialogue. "I have to leave, Sera. Someone has arrived at Grimmauld Place."

"Master," there was none of the usual joking derision in the Elf's voice now. "Wolf is back, and he is bleeding in the Parlour!"

"What! But Remus is dead to!" Harry said.

"No, he is bleeding on floor, be dead soon," Kreacher stated flatly,

"And remember Harry, we thought Dumbledore was lying. I've been out looking for Remus all week. I had a lead I was going to follow this weekend."

"Bring him here," Harry pleaded. "Madame Pomfrey can treat him."

"No! It's the full moon, tonight!" Sirius said. "He can't be in the school, and the shack isn't clean enough for Poppy to treat wounds in."

"What about the basement at Grimmauld?"

"It's not exactly clean either Harry."

"Dobby! Kreacher how quickly can you and Dobby clean the basement at Grimmauld place so that Madame Pomfrey can use it to treat Remus? It will need to be secured safe enough to keep an unwell, werewolf in tonight."

"Half an hour," the Elves promised before they disappeared, not waiting to be actually asked to do the task.

"Please Madame Pomfrey," Harry was pale and shaky now. He had felt so guilty about the Flamel's and to hear that they were alive was a great shock, not to mention that as the week went on and he had not heard from Sirius that he had found Remus, he had begun to think that Dumbledore may not have lied at all.

"Yes of course. I'll just go pack a bag." She ran towards her office.

"Harry?" Seraphina looked at the boy in concern. He was breathing rather rapidly. "Sit down." She levitated another chair over and forced him into it. "It is ok."

"But Dumbledore said!" He stared at her with a wild look in his eyes. "Is there anything that he has told me that is the truth?"

"I am afraid I do not know. We will take this as a warning, and double check any information he gives us. Do not take anything he says at face value."

"Are you staying?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes, I think I can manage at least overnight." She reached out and picked up Percival's hand again.

"Did you miss him?"

"Who? Percival?"

Harry nodded, "From before."

"Yes, we were very great friends. I often wondered what had happened to him. Strangely enough when I went home this time, we found…well we found him. It was truly horrible. I will wait until he is well before I tell you that story though."

"Grindlewald wasn't a nice man."

"Definitely not, though he was very talented at both magic and manipulation."

"Like someone else."

"Just like that. In fact, they were very close at one time I believe. Enough of that. Nicholas will get here as soon as he can. Now what is going on between you and my Godson?"

Percival had been wandering around the white expanse for a while. There had been a brief moment when he had first arrived where he had visions of a future life with Harry after everything was over, but since then…nothing. Just a feeling of waiting.

Finally, there was some movement. The mist that covered everything, swirled and eddied. A dark shape was slowly drawing nearer.

"Oh good. I wanted to talk to you," the voice caused the hairs to rise on the back of Percival's neck. He had not wanted to hear from this God again. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"I am doing what you requested. I have introduced oaths and educated Harry about magic."

"That's what Magic wanted! I wanted you to help my favoured!"

"I have been. His knowledge has improved."

"You have been doing exactly nothing!" Death griped.

"I have not. I have been building his confidence," Percival protested.

"What about our red herring?"

"I showed it to him!"

"And did nothing to follow it up and keep him intrigued. Currently, because you have not been showing your knowledge of powerful spells, he thinks that it is a sign of your vow to defend the world against people like Grindlewald. All you have been doing is pussy footing around and flirting with my favoured. I am all for him having some fun in his life but that will not do. Dumbledore needs to think that you are the Master of Death. That you have been granted my powers and blessing, or else he will not leave MY Harry alone."

"But…."

"You are MY sword and have done nothing to show it, you underplay both your knowledge and power during lessons, and the things you have been teaching my favourite have been nothing more than diversional therapy for the lad. He has real power under there somewhere and I expect you to teach him how to find and harness it!" Death snapped. "Not to mention that he will need to know how to duel."

"He needed to recover first! His body would not have coped with any greater spells!"

"In the meantime, you leave him exposed to attack! He is undefended and unprepared."

A familiar feeling of warmth emanated from behind Percival, "What?"

"I believe Harry, is waiting for you to return. Think of all the trouble he could be getting into without you? He has been spending rather a lot of time with the Weasley twins." Percival shuddered.

"Which way do I go?"

"One direction is as good as another."

Percival turned and walked into the fog.


	22. Chapter 22

She was fuming as she stormed away from the Great Hall. Most students backed out of her way with extreme caution, warned by the look on her face. There was only that one Hufflepuff third year and odds on that Madame Pomfrey would be able to set them to rights. Little worm should not have gotten in her way.

How dare he! How dare that man speak to her that way! How typical that the boy would go whinging and whining because things were not going his way. Regardless the boy had deserved his punishment. It was slander that is what it was. That and the man had threatened her. Not to mention the outright lies. Lucius had assured Cornelius that his son was Heir Black. Slander, threats, lies. She brought her scattered thoughts together. Yes, that was it.

She grabbed a pinch of floo powder and knelt on the cushion she had beside the grate in front of the fire.

"Cornelius Fudge!" She had to wait a moment before the man replied.

"What is it Delores?"

He sounded irritated, but she ignored that, "Sirius Black was here today, Cornelius!"

"So, he met with Dumbledore, Delores it's no great surprise. We've always known he was one of the Headmaster's lackeys."

"No Madame Picquery came to talk to Dumbledore; Sirius Black was with her and wanted to talk to me."

"Why was she there? Wait no. Delores I am about to be late for an important dinner. Can this not wait till morning!"

"No absolutely not. He was accusing me of attacking one of the Heirs. You know I would never do such a thing Cornelius. It is slander, pure and simple. I want him sued!"

"Well take him to court Delores, it has nothing to do with me!" Cornelius had thought that sending the woman to Hogwarts was a brilliant plan when Lucius had suggested it. Someone was keeping an eye on Hogwarts and Dumbledore, and it got her out of his hair. Honestly, she was a public relations nightmare.

"I used the disciplinary methods we discussed Cornelius. If it gets taken to court, I will expect the Ministry to support me."

"Yes, yes," he said distractedly straightening his tie. "Well if that's all." He did not wait for her to nod, before he pulled his head from the fireplace. The woman was mad, they had not discussed any disciplinary measures. All he had said was that she could do whatever she liked within reason. Blast it now he was running late, and it would not do to keep the Malfoy's waiting.

"Where is he?" Lord Black yelled as he stepped out of the kitchen, with Madame Pomfrey.

"Downstairs," Kreacher led the way.

They hurried into the basement room. The first thing that hit them was the smell. Sirius retched but managed to keep his stomach, while Poppy's frown deepened. Dobby was standing next to an elevated table, ensuring that Remus did not fall as he writhed in pain. It was easy to see where the smell was coming from as the wolf had a large jagged wound on the outside of his right leg. The redness of it could be seen spreading up his leg towards his hip, disappearing under the torn leg of his trousers and the skin was shiny and swollen.

Poppy opened her bag and gave it to Kreacher to hold while she rifled through it, pulling out several bottles of potions.

"Hot water in a metal bowl, and a soft clean cloth please," she said tersely as she began to feed Remus potion after potion. A clink sounded signifying the arrival of a table, set with several soft clean cloths and a metal bowl that had steam rising from it. Once she had given Remus a pain relief potion she moved down to his leg. It was only years of training that stopped her from vomiting when she saw the grubs that were wiggling around inside the wound. Dear Merlin, how was she going to fix this?!

"Dobby, I need you to pop to Severus and ask him if there is such a thing as a muscle re-growing potion, for an open wound. If there is ask him how long to make it, and if it is under…2 hours ask him to do so. Pop back with his reply and then return to Severus to help him if required."

"Yes, Mistress Healer Ma'am."

A minute later, he was back. "Professor Snakey says, no. But maybe growth potion after, he will look and see. Maybe he can fix it."

"Right," she wiped the perspiration from her brow. She stopped and looked at the wound. Really there was only one thing she could do. "Kreacher, I need the sharpest knife that you have. It needs to be cleaned with extremely hot water, some ice and a needle and thread. The needle must also be steel and cleaned in hot water."

"Yes Ma'am."

A knife appeared wrapped in a clean cloth. She dropped four…no five….no six…drops of potion into the bowl of hot water, stirred it with one of the cloths and began to wipe down the wound. Remus twitched. She rinsed the cloth out twice before switching it for a fresh one, and having the water changed. Finally after using five of the cloths she could finally see the full extent of the wound.

"I am going to need you to hold him down, Sirius. I dare not cast another spell on him at this point. Kreacher, I am going to need you to stabilise his foot." She grabbed another cloth, to wipe away the last of the pus, until she could see the rotting flesh underneath, there were still grubs visible moving in his skin, she just hoped they had were only eating the necrotic flesh and not the still living muscle.

"Hold him," she ordered as she picked up the knife. Deftly she carved away at the muscle. When she thought she had reached viable tissue. She risked a quick spell to seal the edges of the bleeding vessels, before she wiped it over with a fresh batch of the cleansing potion. Then she took the ice and numbed the edges so she could stitch them together. Lastly, she grabbed a healing ointment, slathered it all over the wound and bandaged over the lot.

Standing up, she stretched her back. "I need a short break before I continue." Kreacher had provided a fresh bowl of steaming water, the smell told her that he had already added the potion. Gratefully she washed her hands.

Dobby appeared with a cup of tea, and whisked away the dirty, used items. Yet another fresh bowl of water was provided. Poppy added more potion to it, only four drops. Sirius helped her to spell the clothes off his friend, so that they could wash him down. His other wounds were tended to none need quite the same attention that the first had and she felt comfortable using the spell to join the edges of skin after they had been cleaned. Though none of the wounds were magically it was likely the experience would have provided him with new scars.

"Poppy, you had best get out of here, moon rise isn't far away," Sirius said as the last wound was sealed and covered in ointment.

"Try and keep him as calm as you can." She looked sadly at Remus remembering the boy who had come into her infirmary once a month during his school years, life had certainly not been kind to the boy. He had so much potential and society just cast him aside.

"I will Poppy." Sirius waved her from the room, and then transfigured the table into a mattress on the floor with Remus still on it. "Lock the door Kreacher, and don't open it again until morning." With those last words he transformed into Padfoot.

The sun was out the next morning. A morning that would forever go down in Hogwarts History as the 'Day of the Toad'.

Delores rose, happily jotted a quick note down and sent it to her lawyer, before completing her morning ablutions. In fact, she would not have noticed anything amiss at all if someone had not happened to have moved the mirror in her bathroom from above the sink to opposite the shower stall door, so that she had to look at her own reflection as she emerged. There was something terribly wrong. Running her hand over her face she let out a little screech as she hurriedly dressed and left the room.

The Matron was not in the infirmary when she arrived, so she hurried back down the stairs towards the Great Hall. If she approached via the teacher's entrance she could remained unobserved, it would not do for the children to see her in such a state. She stood out of sight as she tried to get the woman' attention.

"Psst, Pomfrey. Psst," she hissed, but there was a loud clatter of cutlery and her voice was not heard over the din. "Psst, Poppy!" she hissed louder, twitching now in urgency. "Psst!"

"Oh, good morning, Madame Umbridge," the deep velvet voice of the school's Potion Master, sounded loudly from behind her.

"Oh Severus," she turned her face away from him, as he approached. "Could you get Poppy for me please? It's urgent," she asked, in a muffled voice with her hand covering her face.

"I do apologise but it seems that our Matron has left the table," he continued past her with out pause making his way to his own place.

"What?!" How could the woman do that? Just leave her standing here like this! She must have exited through the Hall. Delores quickly turned and ran back to the infirmary.

"Poppy!" she screeched as she walked in, ignoring the three students who were sitting up in their beds.

"Madame Umbridge, if you would please keep your voice down," the Matron chided as she emerged from her office.

"But this is an emergency!" Umbridge protested getting louder.

"Are you bleeding?"

"No!"

"Are you short of breath?"

"No!"

"Do you have chest or head pain?"

"No!"

"Well what seems to be the problem?"

"Can you not see, woman! Look at my face!"

The grey-haired lady observed the other silently for a moment. "Well if you would like to take a chair over there, I will see what can be done in a moment. I need to treat these students first, so that they might get to class."

"Wait, you want me to wait! What part of 'this is an emergency' do you not understand? I demand that you treat me this instant!"

"The part I do not understand is the part where you think a bit of a skin issue constitutes an emergency, now go sit down, or I will throw you out of my infirmary," Poppy told her bluntly.

"I am the High Inquisitor of this school, and if you do not treat me this instant, I will have you dismissed," Umbridge grinned like a shark.

The three first years who had been watching the verbal volleys gasped.

"You will have me dismissed, will you?" Poppy asked slyly.

"Yes, I will, so I expect no more fuss."

"Oh, you fail to understand me Delores. I will happily leave, but then what will you do? You see, I am in contact with every healer in this country, and a great many elsewhere. We regularly meet over the summer to ensure that we are all up to date in any new developments in our industry. Occasionally it happens that a workplace treats a healer poorly and do you know what happens then?" her smile showed all of her teeth. The other woman shook her head. "What happens is, that place is blacklisted and not a single healer will work there, invariably they are forced to close."

"This is a school! It will not close, we can get on just as well without you."

"Hmm, I will remind you that this is a magic school. Magical incidents happen. It is Ministry regulation that the school must have a Healer on staff." She continued before Umbridge could smugly say that she would get the law changed. "It is also an ICW requirement for any Internationally accepted school to have a Healer on staff. Potions cannot be administered without it being so. Even if you change the law in this country, it would still mean that Hogwarts would be downgraded to a School of the British Isles only. Once this occurs any student wanting to work overseas after their graduation will leave, as they will need Internationally accepted qualification to find work. You will lose anyone wanting to be a Potions Master, Healer, Teacher, Magizoologist, or Politician. That is not to mention that half the positions at the Ministry interact or negotiate with their International counterparts. How many of the students do you think will stay? How will school stay open with the resultant loss of funding?"

"All the ones who mean anything will stay!" Umbridge said surely.

"Mr Malfoy wishes to be a Potions Master, his father wanted him to go to Durmstrang in the first place. Mr Zabini a Politician. Ms Bones a Healer. Mr McMillan wants to go into politics, his sister wants to open an International fashion house. I could go on. Nearly every pureblooded students has aspirations on the International stage after they leave these halls." She watched in satisfaction as the knut dropped. "Now you have wasted enough of my time. Either sit down and wait or leave and close the school down!"

By this time the pair were well within arms distance of each other and Poppy had drawn herself up and loomed over the much shorter woman. Umbridge sank back, took two steps and sat. The Healer attended to her young charges, when they had all had their potions and been sent on their way back to class, she finally returned to look over the still simmering Delores Umbridge.

"Now, what seems to be the matter?"

"My skin, you blithering idiot. Can you not tell?" Delores snapped furiously.

"I must confess I do not routinely gaze at anybody else's skin, unless they are presenting with a rash. You appear to be a normal colour, there is no redness or swelling. Any itching or pain?"

"No."

"You haven't used Perfect Potions or something to cover any blemishes or changes in skin tone?"

"No! _I_ usually have perfect skin thank you very much," Umbridge spat in offence.

"Yes, well. I will just cast a couple of detection spells." A swift wave of the wand, and some muttering of Latin. "Hmm, there does not seem to be anything wrong with you."

"Nothing wrong! It is all lumpy, and it feels, thick, tough!"

"Be that as it may, there is no illness or sickness in it. Have you changed your soap, or face wash?"

"No!"

"Well then I do not know what has happened."

"You useless bint, fix me now! Test me for potions!"

Stern eyes turned on her, "I have no test that can be used to detect potions. If you wish I can give you a cleansing potion that is all. Take it or leave it!"

"I can't do that I have classes to teach today!"

"Then I suggest you get to them!" said Poppy clearly dismissing the other woman.

"This is not over. I suggest that you pack your bags!" As she turned to storm out, intending to emphasise the point by slamming the door, the heel of her shoe broke suddenly, causing her to let out an indignant squeak. It did not stop her from stomping out of the room uneven gait and all.

Sirius rose transforming back into a man, and quickly moved to his friend's side. All in all, it could have been a worse night. Mooney seemed happy to have Padfoot there, and had spent the majority of the night, curled up on the mattress on the floor. At first the wolf had licked at his wounds but apparently, the ointment that Poppy had applied must not have tasted to nice as he stopped relatively quickly. A quick inspection showed that the redness seemed to have receded somewhat. Sirius called for Kreacher to provide him with a quill and ink and marked the edge of the redness. It would allow them to know for sure that the infection was improving, there had been no time to do it the night before.

"Thank you Kreacher," Sirius reached out and took the three phials from the Elf.

Shaking Remus until he appeared to be mostly conscious, Sirius forced him to consume the potions.

"We'll let him sleep, a little longer. I don't think that we should risk moving him," Sirius mused.

A click of the Elf's fingers had the mattress transforming into a bed, complete with fresh sheets. "Master should eat, and sleep. Master Harry will worry." He prodded the man up the stairs, and into the kitchen where a simple breakfast of tea and toast was waiting.

"You are right Kreacher. I'll have a quick bite and a nap. But I need to be up by midday as there is a letter that I need to arrange to have sent to the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. I'll mirror call Harry when I get up so that he doesn't worry."

Kreacher just nodded and made up another tray of breakfast to take down to the Basement.

Delores Umbridge's first class of the morning the was first year Hufflepuffs, none of them would ever have dared to look her in the eyes so it was doubtful that any of them had noticed her skin. Pulling a small mirror from her handbag she checked her skin between classes. Whatever it was appeared to have cleared up, though now her throat felt a little…dry. The quiet group of Sixth Years moved into their places. Delores reached for the glass of water on her desk and took a sip.

"Wands away books, brrrrt." The entire room of faces jerked up to look at her wide eyed in astonishment. "Hem, Hem."

"Books out, page ribrrrt." Several of the brats gasped, hands over mouths and she was sure that she heard a giggle from the back.

"Which of you…." a deep croak exploded from her mouth. The group at the back of the room, burst into laughter.

"You three, ribbit!" she tried to say furiously, as more children joined in the laughter.

"All of y….croak." Sealing her lips shut she turned to the board and wrote.

_Read chapter 4 no talking. _

_Last two benches detention, tonight! _

Just as she finished writing another load croak burst its way from somewhere behind her navel all the way out of her mouth. It made her fat rolls shake. She was pleased that at least there was no more laughter.

She knew better than to even open her mouth for the subsequent lesson, especially as it was the most horrid group, the fifth years, and merely tapped her wand against the board to reveal her instructions when they entered. She sat at her desk, watching the class, with a silencing charm placed on herself, so that they could not hear the errant croaks and ribbits that she emitted every now and then. Fortunately, by the time that lesson ended it seemed to have passed.

Somehow that boy must have been involved! Though she could not see how he had done it. There was no way he had entered her private chambers, they were too strongly warded (she had placed the wards herself) and the …..vocal issue had occurred during the sixth years class. Still it must have been him. Well she was in charge of discipline so did it matter if she could not prove it? She dismissed the thought that Lord Black might actually take action if she had the boy in detention again, after all she would see him in court soon enough, that letter had already been sent. Having made up her mind she strutted into the Great Hall, ignoring the chattering of the student.

Pulling out her throne like seat she smiled at Dumbledore revealing her pointed teeth. The crazy old man did not know that his days at the school were numbered. She smirked as she surveyed the room, soon they would all be bought to heel. It was a pity that she only had a couple of the Quills, still those in the second row of class, only laughed in response to the others, so Filch could take them, that would leave her with Ash Brown, Isobel MacDougall and Eustace Fawley. And of course, Mr Potter. Really she should have just given him a detention slip in class.

Daintily she placed a forkful of food into her mouth and began to chew. It was the Hufflepuff first years who were the first to notice the way Professor Umbridge's eyes seemed to pop out of her head more than was usual and how they flicked around the room. Not to mention the way that her mouth pulled slightly wider to the sides and her tongue seemed to flick around. However, there was not really much to comment on until IT happened.

It seemed that the abundance of fruit on the lunchtime table, had drawn in a cluster of flies or perhaps one of the Gryffindors forewarned of events had released some into the room. One of the poor creatures flew to close and her tongue shot out from her mouth, scooped up the fly, drew it back in and closed sharply with a snap that made several people jump. Blissfully unaware she repeated the action a dozen more times, until it seemed that she was full. Then with an odd motion, her hands placed on the table, she leapt up and forwards. Landing with her heels together, toes turned out, knees bent and splayed, hands still in front of her. Her skirt was pulled tight between her knees, revealing her unmentionables to the front row. Again, her eyes, seemed to swivel from side to side, the elongated tongue lashed out to consume whatever unsuspecting insect happened by and again she leapt this time onto the end of the Hufflepuff table, causing the first years to scream and scatter. Colin Creevey stood up from his place and the Gryffindor table, camera in hand and took a photo, just as her tongue flicked out and swiped across Hannah Abbots face. The girl shrieked and ran from the room.

Pandemonium broke out as Umbridge hopped her way around the room and out the doors, her escape ended with the women submerged in the shallows of the Black Lake, nose and eyes just above the edge of the water. It was there that she came back to herself. Needless to say, when she finally pulled her shivering body out of the water, she was not happy.

"Harry!" Sirius called into the mirror.

"Sirius!" Harry grabbed the mirror, falling down onto his bed. He had returned to the dorms with Ron and Neville to dump their bags before heading to dinner. With a nod, he let the pair know that they did not need to wait, he would join them after the mirror call was finished.

"Is he ok?" he asked worry bleeding into his tone.

"He isn't well, but it looks like he'll be alright," Sirius smiled at Harry's relieved smile.

"I was worried, what with last night," the teenager admitted.

"Me too. The transformation was obviously more painful then normal, but Mooney seemed happy enough to just curl up all night. He licked at his wounds a bit, and snuffled around Padfoot, but other than that it was a quiet night. He has a nasty wound on his leg, but Madame Pomfrey seems to have managed to control the infection."

"Did he say what happened?"

"He's still unconscious Pup, but his temperature is down. For now let's just concentrate on getting him better and we can sort out what happened later."

"Should I tell the Headmaster?"

"I wouldn't. Chances are Poppy will let him know anyway, but I think you calling out his lies at this point is not going to help us any. Let the Headmaster think you are still oblivious." Harry nodded. "Right then, I'm glad a caught you, because you should be receiving the paperwork we talked about at dinner. Sam sent it off earlier. Off you go to dinner."

"Yes Dad," Harry grizzled, completely unaware of his unconscious use of the word or the affect it had on his godfather.

As Harry sat down to dinner, the short, round, pink-clad figure of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor bustled over to his place at the table.

"Detention with me this evening Mr Potter?" she said sweetly.

"Sorry Ma'am, but no," Harry looked away from her and reached over to grab a bread roll out of the basket.

"I am in charge of the punishments at this school Mr Potter and what I say goes! I will see you at seven."

"No, thank you." Harry took a bite of the now buttered bread roll, seemingly unbothered.

"That will be a weeks' worth of detention!" her voice was slowly scaling upwards.

"No."

"A month!"

"No."

"You will be in detention every free moment you have from now until the end of the year!" she finally hissed.

Harry stood, looking down on her, "No! Firstly, my Lawyer has advised me that I am not to be alone in any room with you. Secondly….." he nonchalantly reached out a hand to catch a rolled up sheet of parchment that fell seemingly from nowhere (really though Hedwig, flew out of sight exceedingly quickly). "You will find that this is your copy of the magical restraining order that my Guardian has taken out against you. Thirdly," here he looked around the room. "Anyone having a detention with Delores Umbridge," he ignored Hermione's hissed 'it's Professor Umbridge!' as he continued, "who wishes to join in a class action to be taken against her, and pending the investigation, possibly the Ministry, please write to Samuel MacMillan. Oh, and lastly, issuing a detention implies that there has been some kind of infraction, and I have not done anything wrong, so again I say to you, no."

He walked from the hall, ignoring her blustering calls, and made his way to the Infirmary.

"Now my boy," the Headmaster had approached not bothering to mask his footsteps, as Harry sat at Percival's bedside, working quietly on his homework. He did not look at the older man. "Your behaviour today has been inexcusable, and you will not be excused from Professor Umbridge's detentions. I understand that this is a tough time for you, my boy. However, we cannot be taking our fits of pique out on others, now can we?"

Harry was sure the man's eyes were twinkling for all they were worth, but he refused to look.

"I am not your boy, Professor. I find such an insinuation perturbing and you are not allowed to converse with a student, without a ….chaperone being present. If you wish to talk to me about my schoolwork, then send me a time with enough notice and I will arrange for my guardian to attend."

"Why do you keep espousing this fallacy, Harry?" There if he bothered to look would be the patented, Albus Dumbledore look of disappointment, Harry could tell by the tone of voice.

"You should treat all your students the same Professor," Harry said quietly, hoping that Madame Pomfrey would return soon. "I don't believe that you refer to any of the others so familiarly or have any say in their lives outside of Hogwarts. In fact, it is their Heads of House who act as the guardians for the muggleborn students. Even Hogwarts a History says so, according to Hermione."

"Harry, I am, as I have always been, your guardian. There are times when as the Headmaster I take on that role. Now I understand that teenagers go through their rebellious stages, Merlin knows I did, but you do not have time to indulge it in this way. So, I am afraid that I must insist that you attend your detentions, as you should."

"And why should I Professor? I did nothing wrong!"

"Oh, my boy…"

"Don't call me that!"

"Oh, such childish hormones," Dumbeldore tutted serenely. "As they say in the muggle world, you did the crime, now you must do the time. As Delores Umbridge is in charge of detentions, I am afraid my hands are quite tied in the matter."

"I have done nothing wrong Professor."

"So, you did not make her croak and act like a frog."

"I can honestly swear that I had no hand in it." Well technical it was true; his hands had been nowhere near those potions.

"Still you were exceedingly rude in the Great Hall, so the punishment stands."

"No, professor. I am currently not allowed to be in any room alone with that woman."

The frown grew, leaning even more heavily towards disapproval. "Well then it is fortunate that she has three other students in detention tonight isn't it? I suggest you get a move on, if you are late, she will only add on more."

Harry was effectively hustled out of the room. He made a quick stop in the bathroom, calling to advise Sirius of what had happened and then walked to the Defence office. With the exception of the presence of Ash, Isobel and Eustace the detention was identical to the last. Though Umbridge did spend an inordinate amount of time gloating. When he left, he was cornered by the three older students, asking for the details of the class action, which he happily provided, as he led them towards the Hospital Wing.

"Why the infirmary?" Ash asked.

"Madame Pomfrey, has a potion that can help reduce the binding, scarring and pain from the quill." Harry pushed open the door.

Standing next to Percival's bed was an old man, and by old Harry meant ancient. The knut dropped.

"Mr Flamel!" Harry said quietly so that the other students would not hear, as they followed him into the room. "Oh, grab a seat," he waved the others towards the made-up beds, before he walked over to the office and tapped on the door.

"Mr Potter?!"

"Did you not hear us?"

"No, the Headmaster still has not had a look at the wards." She frowned.

"There are four of us, straight from detention with Madame Umbridge."

"Harry just because you know that Severus makes the potion, doesn't mean you can recklessly get detentions you know."

"I know, Madame Pomfrey, honestly I didn't even do anything wrong this time," Harry saw the concern that was behind the scolding. "Um, there is also an old gentleman, sitting near Percival's bed. I believe it might be Mr Flamel."

"Really!" she peered over Harry's shoulder. "Right well, make yourself useful, you know which potion it is. Get a bowl set up for everyone while I talk to Mr Flamel."

Harry used the time spent soaking his aching hand to sketch out a runes scheme to ward the Hospital wing as he tried not to pay too much attention to the conversation being had between Madame Pomfrey and the elderly man. The ward could be tied to either a bell, or Madame Pomfrey, so she would be advised if someone came into the ward, and he was pretty happy with the results by the time that he was finished.

"Right you lot, it is well past curfew, so I won't send you back to your dorms now. No point getting another detention on top of the one you just had. Clean yourselves up and into bed, hospital pyjamas will do for tonight, and the Elves will bring up a clean set of your robes in the morning," Madame Pomfrey said briskly as the stranger left.

"Ma'am?" Harry drew her attention. "I have drawn up a bit of a scheme for a ward, if you want to show it to Professor Babbling. It could be engraved on the doorway, or on a couple of stones placed on either side."

With a gentle hand she took his notes and glanced over them. Though it had been a long while since she had last studied runes, it did appear that they would work. Yes, she would show them to Bathsheba and perhaps Septima just to be sure.

"Thank you, Mr Potter, I am glad you were using your time wisely. Now," she saw him open his mouth to ask a question, "I am sure that you want to know about Percival. But there is nothing much to tell as yet. You were right it was Mr Flamel, and he has a few ideas. He is hoping to return in the next day or two to sort out a treatment."

"Should I let Aunt Sera know?"

"Don't you worry about it, Mr Flamel said he will tell her. For tonight, you just worry about getting a little sleep. I'll make sure to send tonights notes off to Mr MacMillan."

"Thank you." Harry nodded to her and made his way to the now empty shower room.

Somewhere else in the castle, a brown amphibian was sitting on a bed, surrounded by swathes of pink material. There was a near silent pop and then several clicks, before a final pop and the room was silent again.

"You know we can't let this stand!" the redhead said, turning to his identical companion.

"Indeed, we cannot."

"Harrykins taking the fall for our prank."

"It's just not done."

"What about…."

"Simple is best," he inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Though I think we should follow it up with ….."

"Several doses?"

"The longer it goes on the better the effect."

"Should we let the others in on it?"

"Nah, make it a surprise. They could all do with a pick me up."

"We could just give them some Pepper up potion then."

"Or we could get brewing brother of mine."

"Do you think we could make it into a syrup and add it to toffee."

"Chocolate."

"Chocolate Bourbons!"

"Yes, who doesn't like licking the cream out of the middle?"

"She'll dunk them in her tea."

They grinned wickedly at each other and hoped that Lee would forgive them for locking him out of the dormitory again.

Because Harry was tired the next day he slept in, remaining blissfully unaware of the kerfuffle in the Great Hall. It seemed someone had spiked Madame Umbridge's tea with a babbling beverage and she had blithered and blathered on about all her plans for the school, following the dismissal of the beloved Headmaster of course. She then went on to outline her plans for the classes, which invariably could be broken down into having them all read from the textbooks every lesson and write out essays on each chapter. In fact, they would do better just to copy out the chapters, straight from the texts, no paraphrasing required. Copywrite laws be damned.

She spoke of how wonderful a teacher she was and how great it would be once she finally achieved her goal of assuming the Headmastership. Then she extemporised on the new rules that she would implement. How all creatures should be drowned at birth along with the half-breeds and finally someone, no one saw Filius Flitwick's hand movement, silenced her. She continued rabbiting on anyway.

The students turned away as the mail arrived. On the front cover of both the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet was a picture of Delores Umbridge, shown in full-page glory, hands and feet on the table, knees spread, and her skirt pulled tight, she then jumped into the air and landed on the Hufflepuff table, the traumatised children scattered, before the image reset. The heading read in the Quibbler read _Parents raise concerns over High Inquisitor's sanity. _The article inside, was surprisingly balanced between the issues raised by several parent's (apparently the view received by the Hufflepuff first years was rather traumatising) and the Minister stating that he supported his appointed High Inquisitor and was sure that there was a reasonable explanation for her actions. Which the author suggested was just the Ministry trying to coverup the Rotfang conspiracy. The Daily Prophet featured a watered-down version of the story, giving the Minster's views, with a quote from a concerned member of the board, who raised issues about the amount of pranking going on at the school and the lack of discipline following such events. The article on Albus Dumbledore's dereliction of duty '_Hogwarts Silence. How much are we missing?', _was relegated to page three, much to his relief as it was particularly scathing.

Meanwhile, Umbridge had not stopped talking, seemingly not noticing the silencing charm.

Severus leaned over towards the school's healer, "Should we do something?"

She glanced at the woman very briefly, "I don't see why we should, after all she is not ill. It looks to be a Babbling Beverage of some kind, though it seems to be a modified version as she obviously not talking complete nonsense." She added in a quieter tone, "I find myself rather interested to see how long it lasts."

"Personally, I suspect Potter," Severus said.

"Listening to the way you have gone on about his potions skills in previous years, I would not have thought he had the skill," she looked at him curiously.

"It seems that the boy was missing several rather important texts on basic ingredient preparation. In fact, the entire class of Gryffindors was. Since the error was pointed out to them, they have all made the effort to catch up. Even Longbottom is improving."

"Regardless, the boy was in the Infirmary all night, and I will vouch for that if required."

"Hmm," Severus failed to mention that Harry had access to a House Elf.

It took two whole lessons for Umbridge to regain her ability to speak in a sensible fashion again, so it was not until lunch that she read the Prophet. Almost immediately afterward there was a new Educational Decree announced and Filch was set to posting it to the wall outside the Great Hall. The new decree prohibited any student from being in possession of a copy of the Quibbler. Shortly after the decree was posted copies of the magazine could be found conveniently placed in every corner of the school disguised to look like copies of the Defence Against the Dark Arts text, and by dinner time every student had read it. A fact, Luna Lovegood was rather pleased about.

By the end of the day Delores Umbridge was at her wits end, all she wanted was to take a relaxing bath and go to bed. Trying to chase down copies of that ridiculous magazine had worn her out, of course she had sent another message to the lawyer to add the events to the building case against Sirius Black, whom she presumed to be responsible. Finally, after a long soak she dressed and made her way to her desk. Yes, a nice cup of tea before bed would be just the ticket oh and look, they had left a plate of chocolate biscuits for her, how delightful. She settled in, happily marking corrections on the essays given to her by the fourth years. Oh dear, not many of them would pass. She shook the crumbs from her gown as she stood, put her nightcap on and made her way to bed. Oh good, the little rats who cleaned up had finally received the message and placed a bed warmer between her sheets, well that was wonderful. It only took her a few minutes before she began to doze.

"Eek!" she cried at the pin prick of pain under her shoulder. What in Merlin's name was that? Something had bitten her. She ran her hand over the area, but could find no insect, so she settled down again. Lying awake, waiting for the feeling to recur. Five minutes and all was quiet, perhaps she had imagined it. Eyelids began to droop, softly fluttering closed.

"Ow!" she howled. Oh, that was a wicked nasty bite on her leg this time. A flick of her wand and a muttered 'Lumos' produced a light as she jumped out of the bed, threw back the sheets, and found…..nothing. She lifted her nightgown, exposing a large expanse of dimpled thigh, one that showed no sign of a mark or any redness. Rubbing her hand over the sheet, produced no prickle or bur. With a huff she returned to her bed, pulling up the covers. Waiting for the next pinch of pain.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Nothing, half an hour later still nothing. Relieved that whatever it was must have moved on she allowed herself to drift to sleep.

"Ahh!" Two! This time there were two of them! She called for fresh sheets and changed her clothes. It made no difference. She tried bathing again. The results were the same. She swore and cursed at the poor Elf, who was wringing her hands, finally telling the small thing that she was being given clothes as she thrust out her used night things, for the Elf to take. The Elf looked at her briefly before popping away, glad to be able to leave. While the little Elf was grateful that Umbridge had no power to actually give her clothes she was even more relieved that it meant that she did not have to serve that particular witch anymore. So far fifteen Elves had been 'given clothes' by the woman. Every one of them was only too willing to help the same-faced-Wheezeys (or any other student for that matter) prank her.

The sun was beginning to rise, and Delores Umbridge had not had one wink of sleep. With a huff she had another shower and dressed, heading to the Great Hall. She stumbled over own feet and practically fell into her chair at the breakfast table, demanding that the extra strong coffee be provided.

Sometime the previous day an enterprising sixth year Ravenclaw student had removed their memory of Umbridge's verbal diarrhoea over the breakfast table and sent it into to both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. It was much more difficult for the Minister to deny that the woman had spoken about her plans to re-instate corporal punishment, eliminate practical lessons at all and expel any muggleborn student, when a certified copy of the memory had been provided to both papers as well as the Education office at the Ministry. The Quibbler had managed to turn a short section of the memory into the picture and transcribed the rant word for word (up until the point where the woman had been silenced). Students began to worriedly ask the professors what these plans meant, several were already making plans to move to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny. By midmorning there was new Educational Decree, prohibiting students from asking teachers questions about any topic other than the subject they taught.

That evening Delores collapsed into her chair, pushing aside the pile of unmarked essays she called for a pot of tea. It appeared on a tray with a small pile of white sweets. Oh, that was just what she needed. Four hours later she was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Merlin she was tired. She closed her eyes and lay there some more. Hours passed, still she was awake. Somewhere in the distance a roster crowed, and she wanted to strangle the beast. Or possibly the half-breed who kept it. Coffee oh that would help, yes.

The lights seemed to flicker as she made her way to the Great Hall and she was sure that the floor was moving with her every step. She yelled at the portrait of Drunk Monks, for looking at her the wrong way. Three of them left their painting in a huff, while the last, poked out his tongue and made a rude hand gesture which caused the third years who were trying to pass by unnoticed to giggle, earning them a detention.

Harry did not know what was up with Umbridge but ever since the Day of the Toad she had set the prefects to following him. After two days he had finally managed to slip away to the Infirmary. Percival's condition had not changed, he was still lying seemingly frozen. With a nod to Madame Pomfrey he pulled out the chair next to bed and sat down. He gave a sad little sigh as he picked up Percival's hand.

"Perce, There's so much going on that I wish I could talk to you about. You'd be proud of me. I'm staying on top of my homework and I have gotten copies of the notes for all the classes that you've missed ready for you when you wake up. Not that you need them. Draco and the Slytherins are being a pain, siding with Umbridge. They deliberately provoked Ron and the twins yesterday. Saying horrible things about the Weasley's just because they are poor. We just walked away. It was hilarious actually as they didn't know what to do about that and kind of followed us up the hall heckling us lamely until Professor Flitwick came up and gave them detention. I know Umbridge will say they don't have to go but still."

"Mr Potter," an aged voice sounded next to him, and Harry wondered how the man had approached so silently.

"Oh, Mr Flamel. How are you?"

The old man chuckled, "Hmm, as good as can be expected at my age."

"Oh," Harry went to stand and offer the elderly man the seat, but Flamel laughed at him.

"I am not so old that I cannot find myself a chair young man." With a nonchalant flick of his wand a chintz wing backed chair appeared beside Harry. "Though I do admit, sitting down is a relief at times." He let out a groan and there was a rather concerning creak as his knees bent. "I've had to start making the chairs with longer legs, so I do not have to bend as far," he admitted.

"Do you …."

"Do not be so hasty, young Mr Potter. I believe the delightful Seraphina will join us shortly."

Not a moment later the fireplace at the end of the room, flared green and Aunt Sera emerged.

"Harry darling."

He rushed to stand and stepped into her warm hug. It was not until he was surrounded by her presence that Harry realised how much he needed the physical comfort.

"There's been no change," he said in a small worried voice.

"Perhaps Nicholas can shed some light on what is going on Harry," she suggested, pushing Harry to sit in the chair once more, content to stand beside the bed holding on to Percival's hand.

"I believe I can." Nicholas Flamel was not quite prepared for the eager green stare that was turned on him. "Oh, um. I believe he has had the Sleeping curse cast on him. Though perhaps inexpertly. If cast correctly it forces the victim into a deep sleep as their deepest desires are bought to the forefront of their minds, which can of course be a traumatic thing. Humans are notorious for wanting the things that are worst for them, or things which we are unprepared to face. Normally the sleep should last a mere hour or two. That his has continued suggests it was cast with confused intentions or that it has been interfered with in some way."

"Does that mean he is stuck, Sir?"

"Oh no, lad. He'll come out of it eventually." Flamel seemed completely unperturbed by the vagueness of his statement.

"Can you give us a clearer timeline than eventually, Nicholas?" Seraphina asked.

"Hmm, I should think within a year or two," he nodded to himself happily.

"A year or…" Seraphina placed a warning hand on Harry's forearm, effectively cutting off his explosion.

"Is there any other way to awaken him?"

"Hmm, I should think so," the man spoke slowly, almost drowsily. They waited an excruciatingly long period of time before he spoke again. "Try presenting him with what he desires most." Flamel's eyes drifted shut.

"What does Perce desire most?" Harry asked agitatedly. "He wants to increase the knowledge of magic, um, to defeat Riddle….."

"Those are things he has been tasked with Harry, not necessarily what he desires," Seraphina added.

"Then what….."

"I do not know. This Percival is alike the old one in many ways, but vastly different in others," she gave a sad little smile. "My Perce, desired things like honesty, integrity, and fairness."

"How can I give those things to him?" Harry was becoming distressed.

"I do not know," she leaned down and ruffled his hair gently. "We'll think of something."

It had been another sleepless night spent laying there staring at the ceiling. Desperately tired. Delores was unsure now if she was hearing things, there were odd voices that seemed to follow her around at times. There were strange tinglings on her skin, like someone had hit her with a very light tickling curse. Her eyes were itchy, and nothing tasted as it should. Again nothing had been detected when she had been up to the hospital wing to be checked out again. She was sure it was the BOY, but she could not find him anywhere. Anytime she asked the prefects where he was, the reply was always, 'he's in class'. In the end she had given them a detention for telling lies.

Harry had come to the Hospital wing again, hopefully he would think of some way of bringing Percival out of his endless sleep. Surprisingly Luna had appeared from the opposite corridor as he arrived, carrying a bacon butty wrapped in a napkin, which she promptly handed to him.

"You can't think if you don't have breakfast, Harry," she told him in her airy distracted way.

They sat on either side of the bed, and Harry told her the story of how he and Percival had met. Luna had been most excited that he had met Nicholas Flamel and wanted a word by word recount of what the elderly gentlemen had said. Then she gazed blankly off into the distance for a while. The silence that fell over them was not awkward, more a mutual contemplation. Eventually the blonde spoke.

"It's a bit like that muggle fairy tale isn't it?"

Harry stared at her blankly.

"You know the one where the princess ate the poisoned apple or the one where she pricked her finger on the enchanted spindle and fell into an enchanted sleep."

"I'm sorry but I don't know where you are going with this, Luna. Are you saying Percival is a princess?"

"Would that make you Prince Charming then?" she giggled. "I think that might be a bit back to front."

Harry's eyes almost bugged out of his head.

Then with a sudden change of demeanour, she said surprisingly bluntly, "I am suggested that he might wake up if you kiss him Harry."

"Oh. I don't think that could be what he desires," Harry frowned.

"Why not? The narcolumps are buzzing round not just his head but yours, you know. Which is a sure sign."

"But I can't kiss him while he's alseep!" Harry protested. "It's not right, it's taking advantage. It's…"

Giving a little giggle, Luna smiled, "It's ok Harry. I'm sure Percival won't mind."

He supposed that it would not hurt. If nothing happened Luna was the only one around to witness him making a fool of himself, and he could sort it out later if Perce was offended. Taking a deep breath in he leaned forwards and gently pressed his lips to Percival's cold lax ones.

"I would think that you need to show more enthusiasm than that Harry," Luna poked him in the side.

"Well, I'm feeling a bit embarrassed with you stood right there, watching me!" He cried jumping upright. With a grin and another giggle Luna turned away from him. Harry bent over the bed again leaning in close and whispering quietly, "Please come back Perce. I miss you." A single tear ran down his cheek. As he bent closer and pressed a heartfelt kiss to the slack lips the tear fell unnoticed onto Percival's face.

Straightening up he watched closely. There was not a flicker of movement, no indrawing of breath, no growing warmth, nothing.

"Mr Potter, Miss Lovegood, I suggest you make your way to the Great Hall for dinner," Madame Pomfrey's voice echoed through the near empty ward.

Staring blankly at Percival, Harry wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and give in to the tears that were burning at the back of his eyes. A small hand found its way into his, "Don't give up hope Harry. Sometimes when you are lost it can take a while to find your way home."

He held on tightly as she led him away.

Blinking strange flashing lights and dots out of her eyes, Delores Umbridge made her way to her rooms. Hoping that tonight would be the night when she finally got to sleep. There was a bottle of firewhiskey on her bedside table, surely a little tipple before she turned in would not hurt. Oh, and look there was a little tray of sweets next to it. It looked like she had finally trained those House Elves.

While she was waiting for the Staircase to finish turning, Hermione could not help but think how well her week was going. It might not have been quite what she had meant to happen but the by-product of Percival jumping in the path of her spell was that he was out of the way for the time being. Hopefully she would be able to capitalise on that and convince Harry that he was being manipulated. It looked like the other boy was going to be unconscious for a while so she should have ample time. Then things could return to normal.

The twins, well she assumed it was the twins, were being useful with their pranks for once and targeting the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. While Professor Umbridge was a teacher and therefore should be automatically entitled to respect, it was clear that she was merely a spokesperson for the Ministry. The Ministry should have no say at Hogwarts. She was sticking her nose in where it was not wanted and trying to give the Headmaster a bad name by having everybody fail Defence Against the Dark Arts. Now if she could only convince Harry to teach everyone, the risk of getting caught was worth it. In the case that they were caught detention with Umbridge was obviously not that bad, it was only lines after all. Hermione added that to her list of things to talk to Harry, again.

She had been keeping an eye on her friends and surprisingly Harry had continued with his new study practices, which meant that Ron was also up to date with his homework. The wonderful by-product of that was that she had not wasted time nagging them and had taken the time to read her latest book over again. Most importantly, she thought, she had not lost the book!

"Come in Hermione." The Headmaster was standing near the window, his dark shadow in stark contrast to the light behind him. He was running his hand over the crest of Fawkes' head, as she entered the room.

"Good afternoon Headmaster," she smiled as she greeted the old man. He really had been so very kind to her. Introducing her to the Wizarding world, ensuring she had all the knowledge she need to take up her role, in Harry's life. She knew it was because she was special, more intelligent than all the others. The absolute best of the best.

"Ah, I see you have something for me," he peered at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Yes, Professor," she proudly moved forwards and placed the book on the oak desk.

"You would not happen to be responsible for the predicament of young Mr Graves, now would you Hermione?"

"Oh, Professor," she blushed deeply.

"Tell me what happened," he demanded in a firm voice.

"Well reading about the spell I thought it could be very useful. Harry, well, Harry has always been confused, with what I think his family was like it is not a surprise. I thought that this spell could provide him with a little direction."

"Did you consider that this spell might have bought the fore front of his mind a desire to harm and hurt?"

She tilted her slightly to the side as she considered, "You're talking about him going dark," she mused. "That is not really Harry. He is too forgiving if anything, just look at how he has forgiven Ron for his jealous during the tournament."

"Yes, Hermione, but often the deepest depths of the soul desires things which are forbidden and pushed aside. Perhaps he has been holding on to that resentment at home he is not allowed retribution, perhaps knowing it is out of reach he desires it even more."

"If that were to prove to be the case then I think it would be best for all concerned that it come out now, rather than later when there is no chance of correcting the situation."

"But that was not what happened was it, Hermione?"

"No, I don't know how he did it but Percival, jumped forward pushing Harry out of the way. I really did not mean for him to fall over the balcony," she added the last meekly.

"I would not worry about it. It appears the boy will be fine. Did he see you?" she shook her head. "Well, that is something. I wish you had thought to bring your plan to me. You could have been caught so easily, and I would have been able to do nothing," he said with concern. "If you had cast it on Harry when he was already asleep, then no-one would ever have known. He would merely have woken up the next morning having faced his desires in his sleep. However, there was no harm done and I am impressed that you had the strength to cast it." She could practically feel how proud he was of her.

He pulled another book from under his desk, sliding it towards her. She never saw his predatory grin, her entire focus being on the book, with its wrinkled leather cover. There was no title on it just the picture of a wand.

"I'll be more careful next time," reaching out a hand she stroked the bindings. "I'll bring any plans to you first," Hermione promised, lifting her gaze to meet the Headmaster's.

His twinkling eyes watched her as she walked from his room, hugging the book to her chest.

As Delores Umbridge dragged herself from bed, she groaned she could not even remember how long it had been since she had experienced anything like a full night sleep. Her eyes were itchy, and her mouth parched, fortunately she kept a glass of water on her bedside table, today the Elves had helpfully left a slice of lemon in it. She could tell already that it was going to be a long day. Both staff and students were now actively avoiding her. At the very least she would make an effort to speak to the staff about the matter. Their behaviour could not be allowed to continue, she had at least one more review to conduct, this week.

Barely coordinated enough to put one foot in front of the other she dragged herself in to the ensuite, hoping that a shower would make her at least semi awake for the day. At least she only had to face two classes with the brats today. For the moment she put that aside, the brats were easy to handle, all she had to do was issue detentions if they started misbehaving. She dressed quickly, barely glancing in the mirror before she left the bathroom. It took her until she opened the door for her mind to register what her eyes had seen. No! Surely that could not have been correct. Heart rate picking up, she stepped back to view herself once more. The mirror enlarged enabling her to see her whole body. Her round, face and double chin…no distinguished jaw line, the matching pink of her shirt and robe, her tail swished, coming into view over her shoulder.

.Swished.

She closed her eyes and looked again, human face, cute little skull shaped buttons on her robes, yes. There at the bottom of the mirror, where her lovely pink court shoes should be, were hooves. They were painted pink to match her ensemble, but they were hooves. Her hand flew to her chest, heart racing as she took in the elongated rump and four legs. Delores Umbridge fainted on the spot.

Percival was tired, oh he was tired. Wandering through the never-ending mists of wherever this place was. Every once in a while he felt warmth, or caught a waft of the smell that Harry always carried with him after flying, like cold ozone, and he would follow it, until it disappeared. There was no way of knowing how long he had been there or how far he had walked. He was nearly at the point of collapse, it was only the chiding of Death that kept him moving. In someways he thought Death was right in others he was sure the God was wrong. Harry needed to grow in confidence first, there was no point teaching him fancy spells if he did not have the confidence to pull them off. Yes they probably could have moved on to other spells by now, but there had been other obstacles to negotiate first. He admitted freely that he had not done enough to draw the attention of the Headmaster onto himself. That was easily corrected though.

There it was again, the warmth, the smell. Was it stronger here? Yes, he must be getting closer. There! Directly in front of him, just visible through the mist was a door. He put his hand on it, dragging his fingers across the surface, the grain seemed almost familiar. Pressing his ear to it, he could hear an odd lub dub, lub dub. As strange as it felt, he turned his nose to the wood and inhaled. Oh, by the Gods, it smelt like Harry. Harry would be so worried by now. There was no door handle, or keyhole. Damnation, but he would not be denied. Harry was on the other side of that door, and by hell or high-water he was getting through it. He pushed and shoved at it. Stood back and kicked it but it would not budge. Finally taking a few steps back he got a run up and charged at the door with his shoulder. It splintered down the centre and gave way. There was the sensation of falling into cold water, and he opened his eyes with a harsh gasp.


	23. Chapter 23

_Dear Aunt Petunia…._

The morbidly obese man scrunched the letter up in his fist. It did not even feel like real paper. The Freak did not even have the common decency to use normal lined paper like the rest of the world. How dare the boy write a letter to Petunia. The envelope lay on the table, its single stamp mocking him. How dare she! How dare she receive letters from that freak as if he were a normal member of society. He glanced at the paper in his hand….._ in regards to your question….. _Clearly she had been writing to him too! He would not tolerate it, would not stand for it. They had said that they would stamp out any sign of freakishness in the boy, and now he discovered her betrayal.

How long had it been going on? Was it only recent since the other Freak had arrived? Yes, Dudders had changed that night. Vernon had thought it was due to the Dementoids or whatever they were but maybe it was not. Maybe it was like Marge had always claimed, if there was something wrong with the pup then there was something wrong with the bitch. And he was sure that there was something wrong with Dudley now. He kept going on about eating healthily and exercise, wanting to make the team, and do well in school. For goodness sake he had joined a mentoring program! Some Namby Pamby nonsense for cissy boys that was. Where did it all come from. They had always known that something was wrong with the Freak, and certainly the Freaks parents were known to be abnormal, so did that mean that Pet's Grandparents were just as strange? Funny that she had never mentioned them.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he took another sip of the amber fluid, ignoring the slight burn as he swallowed. Lowering the tumbler to place it on the table. It was not often that Vernon Dursley was able to get away from work early, however after a small discrepancy had been found by the company accountants an independent auditor had been called in. Each director had been ordered to handover their files for: outstanding orders, order history and customers, in their purview. Like the good company man that he was Vernon handed the files over in short order and was to return extra early the next morning for an interview. The whole situation was vexing. While he had not committed any legal infractions per se there had certainly been a time…or two when he had perhaps not gone through appropriate channels for some of the deals that he knew would be approved anyway. Like that time, he gave a special price on the order for Marge that perhaps was not quite the number of drills meant to qualify for the bulk discount. Or the time a couple of years ago when he had accepted that holiday, he had told Petunia it was a work trip, as part of the negotiations to give a further discount off the order for Hardey's. Still he was sure that the Board would not mind, after all it still put money in the bank.

What it meant was that he was home early, and Petunia the wretched woman was out, probably having an affair with Mr Number fifteen, the one that she was always ogling, from down on the corner. It made his blood boil knowing that while he was at work, slaving away all day, she was at home. Doing what exactly? What exactly did the blasted woman do all day? He would be having words with her about it.

The point was he was home early. Early enough to be home when the post arrived, and he had found the letter from their Nephew. The roiling, burning feeling grew in his abdomen. That little piece of snot, who had come in unasked for, unlooked for and taken over their lives. Despite being a junior executive when Dudley had been born they had managed quite well. Once the boy had been foisted on to them, they'd had to cut corners, in order to save. Instead of his boy having the best of everything they had been forced to compromise. Instead of Harrods, they'd had to shop at Debenhams. Instead of holidays to Brighton they'd had to stay at home. There had been no trips to the cinema and he'd had to take packed lunches to work. Of course after his first promotion it had eased up a bit, but he could not help but feel a certain level of resentment that they had not lived the life he had wanted from the start. Now after all of their struggles she was going behind his back to talk to the boy. He was not going to stand for it!

Twisting the glass, and watching the fluid, swirl, he squashed the desire to pick it up and throw it at the wall. It had been such a wretched worrying day, then when he had been home less than five minutes that blasted letter had landed on the doormat. Desperate to know who was writing to _his_ wife, he had ripped it open, to find that it was from the boy. Another sip went dribbling down his throat. He had opened the bottle the moment he had learnt of her deception. It was the bottle that had been given to them by her Father as a wedding present. The note that had accompanied it wished them a long and happy marriage with instructions to open it on their fiftieth anniversary. Long and happy, pah! Long certainly. How he had put up with the old sow was beyond him.

A car pulled up in the drive, but he could not be bothered getting up, the door opened and in she walked juggling two bags of groceries.

"Oh Vernon…you….are home early," she murmured. He grunted in reply. "Would you be a dear, there are another couple of bags in the car." She dared to smile.

"No!" he snapped, throwing back the last of his drink. After his response she did not dare ask him how his day has gone.

"Oh, ok then," she placed the bags on the table and returned for the rest. Making quick work of unpacking them, all the time nattering on about the neighbourhood gossip.

"What've you done all day?" he grunted finally sick of her voice.

She paused, and looked at him for a moment, "Well this morning I did the dishes and hoovered. Then I went and had a coffee with Yvonne, she wanted to show me her pictures from their latest holiday. It did look lovely. Maybe we could go one time?" her voice gave a lilt at the end. Again, he grunted.

"After that I did the shopping, and well here I am," she shrugs. Her attempt to lighten the mood falls down like lead. Summoning up her courage she dares to ask, "Is there something wrong dear?"

"Is there something wrong?" he repeats back in seeming disbelief. "Yes, there is something wrong. I slave away at work all day and when I get home, I find that you have spent all my money on frivolous things!"

There was threat in his tone that made her shiver, "It's was just one coffee and this weeks groceries."

"Just the food! Ha! I know better. I know all about your meetings with that lecher from up the corner."

"Meetings with Mr Mahoney? Why would I…"

"See you even know his name. I've seen the way that you look at him, in his flash new car as he hoons off down the street."

"He is nearly sixty and married Vernon! Half his hair is grey."

"I've heard that makes a man distinguished," he huffed. "Besides that's only a few years older than me."

"I'm not looking for anyone else, I have enough right here?" she smiled at her husbanded reassuringly.

"You're lying!" he accused.

"I wouldn't lie to you Vernon!"

He stared at her a moment, before pulling out the crumpled letter he had stuffed in his pocket. "Explain this then," he said slapping it down on the table.

The clop, clop of horse's hooves echoed down the hall, but not one student turned or acted as if anything was strange. But Delores knew, she knew that they were all looking at her the moment her back was turned. Their beady eyes tracked her wherever she went. Their whispers followed her around the school. To make it all worse she still had not managed to sleep. Food no longer tasted the same, and the only thing that allowed her to function was the massive quantities of caffeine (in the form of endless cups of tea) and sugar that she was consuming. Fortunately, the Elves had left a plate containing some multicoloured sweets on her desk, between classes. The students would never know if she just had just the one.

"What on earth is wrong with Umbridge," Harry whispered to Ron as Neville joined them. The trio had safely made it to the common room, detention free. "I mean, she's normally bad, but that was ridiculous!"

Delores Umbridge had been in a foul mood. She had been stalking through the hallways all afternoon, issuing detentions to all and sundry for walking to loudly and having shoes that squeaked. Students were running at the sight of the woman and a poor Hufflepuff first year had been injured in the stampede.

"Yeah, she's completely nuts," Ron tilted his head observing his twin brothers laughing. "I wonder if she had help getting there?"

The other two boys followed his line of gaze.

"Oi, what are you lot lookin' at?" Fred called across the crowded room noticing the trio of stares.

The three shared a look before getting to their feet and moving over to join the pair.

"You guys wouldn't know anything about the state of our Defence teacher, would you?" Neville asked bluntly.

"Depends who's asking," George said glancing away. Hermione was sitting not far away, looking for all the world as if she was not listening, but the lack of page turning gave her away.

"Muffliato," Harry whispered. "Now, that no one else can hear. Are you or are you not responsible for the bad mood that Umbridge has been in?"

"Weelllll, when you put it that way."

"Yes," George finished for his brother.

"What did you do?"

"We started with biting bourbons, then we moved on to no-nap nougat and last but not least hallucinogenic humbugs." Fred grinned.

"The first two are self-explanatory but the last…?"

"They are designed to make a witch or wizard hallucinate. They are related to our daydream products but in this case they specifically make her believe that she is a centaur."

"For example, any time she looks in the mirror she will see her head on a centaur body, she'll hear hoofbeats and she'll feel like she is walking on four legs," Fred shrugged.

"We thought they could be good for those persons wanting to see what it felt like to be a given animal but were to afraid to try the anima products."

"Which still need a little bit of work, though I must say if you have seen Lee today, he does look particularly fetching with his new ears and tail."

"Wicked!" Ron breathed in admiration.

"No, not wicked Ron! People are getting detentions all over the place and I just had to take Elsie Hall to the Hospital Wing with crush injuries," Neville hissed.

"It's alright Neville, we've put the last one into play," Fred reassured.

"Then it should settle things right down," said George.

"And what is that?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's the what would normally be the antidote for no-nap nougat we call them sleeping smarties."

"They will put her to sleep?" Ron frowned, thinking it sounded a bit lame, surely, they could just leave her alone and that would happen eventually.

He was met with a pair of crocodile like grins, who knew the twins looked after their teeth so well?!

"Normally yes but for Umbridge nothing so nice."

"We were going to put it in nougat and call it narcolepsy nougat, but we already used that, and we don't want her getting suspicious."

George held out a hand full of brightly coloured sweets.

"These are a muggle treat called smarties. They're basically chocolate that is coated in a hard-sweet shell and are the perfect receptacle for the little powder we created. Once it gets absorbed, she will fall asleep, but only for thirty seconds at a time. So, if she eats one she will fall asleep for half a minute, two and she'll sleep for a minute, four two minutes, and so on."

"What if she eats a handful?" Ron asked eyeing the sweets.

"Then it depends how big her hand is," they grinned.

"Best thing is because they need to be dissolved, she'll never know when it is going to happen."

"Well we can all look forward to that, hopefully it is right up the top of one of the flights of stairs," Ron said viciously.

"Um," Harry started. "I don't think…"

"Harry," Ron said exasperatedly. "You know if it had just been the fall, Madame Pomfrey would have fixed Percival by now. A tumble down the stairs will hardly hurt her."

"Speaking of which," Neville interrupted. "I think I might have heard Madame Pomfrey saying he was awake."

"What! You didn't think to tell me before now!"

"Sorry Harry," Neville started to apologise but, Harry was gone, taking the stairs to the dormitories two at a time. They did not see him come back down.

"Homework then?" Neville asked Ron.

"Fine! Homework," Ron groaned. "But in half an hour we're stopping for a game of chess."

Harry pushed open the door to the infirmary, not a second later Madame Pomfrey merged from her office.

"Oh, Harry dear. I was wondering when you would hear. Just wait by the bed, Percival wanted to get clean, he'll be out from the shower any minute."

Pulling out a seat, Harry slid into it to wait.

"Don't you have homework to do?" a voice broke through his thoughts. Green eyes lifted and if the boy-man that approached had not looked so deathly tired Harry would have thrown himself at his friend. Instead he stood and moved to grab Percival's arm.

"Here, you sit. And I'll have you know that I am nearly up to date, in all my work!" he said indignantly, before breaking into a laugh. He reached down and grabbed the notes from his bag. "Here," he placed the pile on a nearby table, these are the notes from all the classes you've missed. The Arithmancy and Ancient Runes notes are from Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. I thought I'd manage to get my History essay written before Pomfrey kicked me out."

Harry adjusted the table in front of Percival so that they could both get their work done, while Harry caught Percival up everything happened including Remus' survival.

"….and Sirius said that there's a Wizengamot meeting on Wednesday and he has added it to the agenda," Harry finished. Then he paused and set the parchment in front of him to dry.

"Seraphina was here today," Percival said quietly. "She told me the same, she is intending to go and watch."

There was a faint buzz, and it took a moment for the pair to realise that Harry's mirror was vibrating in his bag.

"Sirius!"

"Hey Kiddo." Harry grinned and settled himself into a hastily drawn up chair so that Percival could see into the mirror as well. "Percival, it's good to be seeing you looking so well. I won't tell you how worried our Harry has been." He grinned as Harry blushed and ducked his head. Percival just reached over and gave his thigh a squeeze.

They filled Sirius in on the goings on in the school. Sirius starred at Harry a contemplative expression on his face.

"In my day," he paused a look of horror on his face. "Oh dear Merlin! I sound like Papa P!"

"Papa P?" Harry asked with a grin.

"It's what I used to call your Grandfather."

"Sounds about right then old man," Harry smirked.

"Anyway," Sirius huffed. "The marauders would never have let such behaviour stand unopposed."

"Who said it had been unopposed?" Harry replied with a smirk, going onto reveal the retribution implemented by the twins.

"Well if you need any more ideas…"

"Please don't encourage him!" Percival scolded. "You're supposed to be the adult."

Sirius did not even have the decency to look to look ashamed.

Eventually Madame Pomfrey emerged from her office, scolded Harry for keeping Percival up and shooed him from her Infirmary. Just outside the doors, he covered himself in his Cloak, pulled out the Marauders Map and made his way back to the common room. The room was quiet, only a few seventh years remained, gathered around the dying fire studying diligently. Harry passed by un-noticed on his way to his dorm.

"Der Glumph, went the little brown toad one day."

"Der Glumph, went the little brown toad."

"Der Glumph, went the little brown toad one day."

"And the toad went Glumph, Glumph, Glumph."

There was a pause as she moved between floors, unfortunately there were still suits of armour lining the halls on this level.

"But….we….." the armour raised their arms into the surrender position and vibrated their hands.

"All know toads go."

"Lah, de, da, de, da." Their arms were shaken from side to side.

Silver hands were bought together in a loud smash.

"Lah, de, da, de, da."

Clap

"Lah, de, da, de, da."

Crash

"We all know toads go."

"Lah, de, da, de, da."

"They don't go Glumph, Glumph, Glumph."

The sound of hooves on stone echoed off the walls all around her a counterpoint to the happy song. Finally, she made it to her classroom, slamming the door behind her she shut out the noise.

"_Hem, hem_," she made her way to her desk. It had to be that Potter boy. He had not been in the Great Hall when she had been there, but she just knew it was him. Luckily, he was in her first class, so it would be easy enough to give him a detention. She ignored her swishing tail as she spelled todays chapter onto the board and sat at her desk waiting for the class to file in (her chair was rotated sideways in order for her rump to fit. Ten minutes later the bell signalling the start of lessons rang and the students filed in.

The class was somewhat surprised to see Madame dozing in her chair, chin on chest when they opened the door. Perhaps a minute after they were all in their places, her head jerked up, and she gazed around the room, appearing startled to see them.

"Good Morning students."

"Good Morning Professor Umbridge," they all parroted.

"Wands away, open…." Her head dipped down. "Gngh…gnhg….."

"Um. Is she snoring?" Fay whispered incredulously as they all hurriedly withdrew their books. The smarter ones amongst them had long since learnt the charms to make their books look like the Defence text.

"Snft…" Umbridge's head jerked, and her eyes popped open. The students were all sitting quietly with their eyes focused on their open text books.

Five minutes went by under her beady eyed gaze before it happened again. If they had been watching her they would have seen their professor yawn, then blink slowly, before her head fell forwards once more.

"Gngh…gngh…"

Lavender turned around in her seat to face Fay and said seriously though still quietly, "Yes."

"I rather think she needs to have someone look at her adenoids," Hermione said primly. "That can't be…"

"Snft…. No Talking!" Umbridge snapped. "Detention Miss Granger!"

"What for?" Hermione asked indignantly. "I was just…"

"For disrupting the class. Now I suggest that you resume reading," Umbridge sneered.

It was a full ten minutes before the toad like face drooped again, this time the class knew to stay as quiet as possible. When the bell went signalling the end of class Umbridge had not woken and the students stole from the room on silent feet.

"Now that we have dealt with all outstanding items on our agenda. I open the floor to any member wishing to bring items forward," the Chief Warlock stated.

A quick glance showed several hands in the air, "Lord Fawley, has the floor." The Lord in question stood as the rest of the hands were lowered.

"I wish to request an enquiry be started into the placement of the High Inquisitor at Hogwarts," his clear voice rang through the chamber.

"What are your reasons, Lord Fawley?"

"The High Inquisitor, as seen in the Daily Prophet appears to be behaving erratically and she has inflicted questionable punishments on the children."

"You can't believe everything you read in the Prophet," Dumbledore said with a chuckle from the visitor's gallery.

"Now that you are not a member of this body any longer Dumbledore, you opening matters little. However I refer not to that farce of a paper but to the word of my Heir."

"Minister Fudge, has a response he takes the floor."

"The High Inquisitor has my every confidence," was all he said before he sat down.

Lord Fawley starred, "So," he pulled out a piece of parchment, with its broken seal still visible. "Eating flies and jumping on tables, is acceptable behaviour? Or perhaps the issuing of detentions for breathing, looking at her wrong and answering her questions correctly?"

The Minister stood again, "To the first, one of the students has clearly pranked her, probably Potter, and to the second…"

"I object!" Sirius was on his feet. "What evidence do you have that Harry has done any such thing?"

Fudge snorted, "He's just like his father, of course he did it!" he said as if it explained anything.

"How would you know?" Sirius asked. "For your information he is not like either his Mother or his Father, which is unsurprising really when you consider that he was raised by neither. I insist that you retract your comment, or provide evidence, Minister Fudge."

"Fine!" Fudge pushed his glasses back up his face. "Clearly, any student could have performed such a prank. To the second, the position is a stressful one and Delores is bound to be a little short tempered at times." He gave what he thought was a pleasant smile and sat once more.

"I apologise for the interruption," Sirius bowed to Lord Fawley.

Lord Fawley nodded his acceptance of the apology.

"Has the statement from the Minister answered your claim?" the Chief Warlock asked.

"No. That the woman is clearly disturbed is but one aspect, the other more serious matter I wish to present is her use of a Black Quill in detentions."

There were several gasps from the surrounding seats.

"Oh, come on now!" the Minister stood in protest. "I am sure this is an exaggeration. Delores has my permission to use whatever method of punishment she deems necessary, within reason. She will be most unhappy with these fabricated accusations, and I believe you will be hearing from her Law Wizard." He grinned as if he had won the argument, but Lord Fawley was unmoved.

"Excellent, I will advise Samuel MacMillan to add your name to the suit. The last matter I bring before the Wizengamot is the notification of a class action against one Delores Umbridge as High Inquisitor, and Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. They will be facing charges of the possession of a class A prohibited item and its use on more than a dozen witches and wizards many of whom are under age and including the Heirs of six Ancient and Noble houses. Or in the case of the Minister being an accessory to these crimes. We ask that they be remanded for trial within the next fourteen days and that the High Inquisitor be removed from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry immediately so that the investigations can commence. I refer the investigation to the DMLE."

"I object!" called an elderly voice into the stunned silence of the room.

The Chief Warlock, pinched his nose, "As has already been pointed out Mr Dumbledore, you are no longer a member of this august body and have no right to protest the motion."

The still blustering man reluctantly resumed sitting reluctantly.

With a 'Hem' Cornelius Fudge cleared his throat and stood, sombrely surveying his peers, once he was acknowledged by a nod from the Chief Warlock he began, "It saddens me that some of you would fall for the words of a disturbed child."

"And which disturbed child is that?" Lord Fawley asked.

"Why Harry Potter of course. Just because he is famous, does not mean that he is infallible. We should view these stories not with the rose-coloured spectacles of hero worship but with an eye for the truth."

"Those are very pretty words Minister; however, I remind you that I am presenting these charges because _my_ Heir has been affected, and I am sure you are not so crass as to imply that Eustace is lying?"

"One case is not enough for trial," Fudge scoffed. "I'll have her make an apology to the boy, meanwhile have you asked Eustace what he did to deserve his detention? I recall he was always a little rascal," Fudge chuckled, there were some echoed titters from those watching.

Lord Fawley was slowly turning crimson in anger, and took a moment to calm himself, "This is no laughing matter Fudge. The Heirs affected were Fawley, Brown, MacDougall, Lovegood, Zabini and Potter-Black. Other children who have been affected are Lavender Brown, both Patil twins, both Creevey brothers and both Greengrass sisters. There are more," he waved the piece of parchment he had been holding.

The names created a susurrus that spread around the room like fire in dry grass.

There was the bang of a gavel, creating silence once more, "It is agreed that the matter should be investigated. I nominate Amelia Bones to head the investigation. A court date will be posted at the earliest time convenient. You mentioned some of the students being of age?"

"Yes, Heirs Fawley, Brown and MacDougall. I am not sure of the other students."

"Would you agree to the Heirs giving testimony under Veritaserum?"

"Are you doubting the word of my Heir?"

The Chief Warlock shook his head, "No. I am trying to prevent contention. While you can claim that your Heir speaks the truth as no doubt will Lords Brown, MacDougall and the others, so will Minister Fudge. Thus, any trial will reach an impasse. If the of-age Heirs are willing to take Veritaserum we might reach the bottom of this matter. Notification of charges is to be provided to the accused no later than close of business today with the trial date," he flicked through a book that rested on the lecture, "a fortnight from today. The Lords involved are to provide their written approval for the use of Veritaserum at the trial. All in favour?" he paused to count the lit wands. "Carried."

"A wise ruling Chief Warlock," a warm and feminine voice praised the man. "I also have an issue to raise with regards to the school."

"Madame Picquery?" He acknowledged the elegant women. She was wearing somewhat subdued, though still elegant, robes of navy, a stark contrast to the purple robes of the Wizengamot members.

"She's not a member!" protested Fudge from his seat in the front row.

"No, but while we reside in this country my Godson attends that school and he has been attacked. As he is not a British citizen the matter cannot be resolved by the Board of Governors and I must raise it here."

"Percival was attacked?"

"Indeed, and the Headmaster failed to notify me of his injuries or the results of any investigation that took place. A fact which is concerning in the light of the fact that it took, my consulting with an external expert to identify the curse he had been afflicted with and to find its cure."

"All is well then," Fudge huffed.

"All is not well," Seraphina Picquery stared contemptuously at the man, causing him to shrink back into his chair. "He was attacked, while your High Inquisitor was in charge. Process was not followed, I was not advised. And as far as I am aware no investigation has occurred."

"But you said you called in…"

"I was not advised by the Headmaster," she clarified, not the least bit thrown by his interruptions. "Indeed he prevented the Matron from advising me. It was only through communications with Lord Black that I was advised."

Dumbledore scowled at Sirius, if a look could impart physical damage the black-haired man surely would have burnt to a crisp. He desperately needed to get that boy back under control. Hopefully the curse would have adversely affected Mr Graves' personality, which would fracture the growing relationship, allowing his protégé to ingratiate herself back into their group. He returned his attention to the conversation and nearly had a fit.

"Interestingly the curse is known to be a Grindlewald Family spell. I wish to know who cast it and how they came by it, for surely the details of such a spell are not readily available in the Hogwarts Library?" She raised an elegant brow.

"Headmaster, do you have a comment?" the Chief Warlock asked.

"No. I could not say how it came about," he remained seated, his arms across his chest.

"And why was Madame Picquery not advised of the incident? Did an investigation occur?"

"Simply because there was nothing to advise. There were no witnesses so the investigation led nowhere and the boy was well, though asleep. Physically he had been healed, I had every confidence that Madam Pomfrey would find a solution, as he has now awoken, I was correct."

"Be that as it may Dumbledore as soon as he was injured, I should have been notified. It is clearly written in the Hogwarts charter that all parents or guardians will be advised should the child in their care be injured in any way. I also know that this is not the first time you have failed to do so. In fact, I believe that several students were injured three years ago, and not one of their parents were notified."

"They were all Muggleborn students!" Dumbledore protested. "And they were merely petrified."

"What has that to do with it? They were children! You have a duty of care to advise their parents. The youngest missed nearly six months of their first year of school and the oldest missed two months of their sixth year. Not that it makes any difference but she was a half-blood whose parents are both magical. Their parents should have been advised and guidance provided so that the students could catch up on the missed work at the very least. Not to mention receiving treatment for the trauma."

"For the Muggleborn students their Heads of House are their guardians," Dumbledore explained as if talking to a particularly slow student. "And none of them appear traumatised in the least."

"Only for immediate medical decisions that cannot wait for the message to be carried to their parents. The charter is still clear that their parents must be advised. And are you telling me that after being attacked by a six foot high snake, none of those students have residual nightmares?! Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that for three of the students involved that is not true."

Dumbledore just turned up his nose. How dare that stupid witch, question his decisions, as if she would know. Clearly he also had to do something about the boy talking, it would not do for anyone else to know about the Basilisk carcass. He had plans for the money that would bring in, he just needed to get Harry back under control so he would open the blasted door. Albus had tried opening it with the few words he could replicate in parseltongue, but none of them had worked, it was very vexing. If he did not know better he would have said that someone else had laid additional wards on the entryway.

"I can see we are getting nowhere," the Chief Warlock said. "I suggest we refer the matter to the Board of Governors for investigation. All in favour?" he knocked the gavel. "Carried by simple majority. Any other matters?" he paused to look around the stands. "So ends today's session. May magic bless us all." He struck the gavel against the top of the lectern one last time.

"Did you hear?" Alicia Spinnet, fell into the seat beside Harry.

"Hear what?" Harry asked before shovelling a fork full of roast pumpkin into his mouth, barely paying attention. Now that Percival had recovered his appetite had suddenly returned. He suspected that this was how his body would always react to stress after all the years at Privet Drive. Percival bumped him with his shoulder and gave him a slight frown, causing Harry to stop and blush as he realised what he was doing. He had one arm wrapped around the plate he was bending over as if protecting his food. "Sorry," he whispered in mortification, sliding his arm to his side and straightening up.

Percival reached out and squeezed his forearm, whispering "Don't be. Just thought you would not want anyone else to notice."

"My brother is friends with Eustace Fawley. As Heir Fawley Eustace went to the Wizengamot today and…" she leaned closer. "We get rid of the Umbitch tonight." She sat back grinning.

"You can't call her that!" Hermione gasped in horror from the other side of the table. "She's still a teacher."

"Really?" Alicia turned a piercing gaze on the curly haired girl. "What exactly have you learnt in her class?" She paused briefly, but Hermione was biting her lip unable to say anything. "Exactly."

"They really did it?!" Harry murmured.

Alicia grinned, "Yep."

There was a commotion at the doors and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the room, preceding Amelia Bones and Gawain Robards. They made their way to the teachers table, where Delores Umbridge was once again napping.

"Delores Jane Umbridge, in accordance with the wishes of the Wizengamot and in preparation for your trial. You are to leave Hogwarts directly. You may not return to your rooms. You may not collect any item before leaving. The House Elves will pack your belongings after the investigative process has occurred."

"Snft…Wha?" Delores blinked slowly.

"Auror Shacklebolt will see you to the gates."

"What?" Delores snapped. "I am High Inquisitor, why would I be going to the gates."

Madame Bones looked supremely unimpressed, "As I have just said you are to leave so that an investigation into your actions and behaviour may occur. Your belongings will follow, if you provide Auror Shacklebolt with your address."

"I demand you call the Minister. He has sanctioned all of my actions."

"Don't worry, Delores, he is being investigated as well," Bones smirked at the woman and indicated for the large Auror to assist the woman from the room.

She made it midway up the tables before she fell asleep mid-rant, swaying on her feet. Luckily, Kingsley Shacklebolt, cast a spell to cushion her fall as she fell face first onto the ground.

"Just levitate her to Three Broomsticks," Amelia stated before turning back to the gathered teachers. "Now if someone can lead me to her rooms?"

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," Dumbledore began to rise from his seat, but was cut off my Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout all volunteering.

In the end Filius Flitwick lead the Head of the DMLE away. She looked back over her shoulder as she turned to follow the diminutive man, "Don't think I have forgotten you Dumbledore."

The only ones not smiling at the departure of the hated Professor were a select group of Slytherins.

"Who do you think they will get to teach Defence now?" Harry asked.

There were many shrugged shoulders and thoughtful hums from the group surrounding him.

"It can't be Remus, because he is dead," Hermione mused.

"What?!" Neville squeaked. "What happened?"

Harry went to speak but Percival stepped heavily on his foot. They could tell Neville and Ron in their dorm later where they would not be over heard by Hermione. In any case it might be best to keep the knowledge of Remus' survival from the Headmaster, if he was still unaware. At least until Remus was fully healed. Madame Pomfrey was bound to mention it at some point, however there had been enough incidents going on that it had been pushed to the background for now.

Hermione sighed sadly. "Professor Dumbledore told me himself. He was out in the countryside and got mistaken for a thief and was beaten to death."

Harry attempted to look stricken, but from the curious look he received from Ron, did not quite succeed. "Later," he mouthed silently.

"Perhaps Seraphina Picquery then? I heard she worked closely with the Aurors before she was President," Alicia suggested, looking at Percival.

"She has rather a lot of commitments already, I can't see her managing to have enough time. Maybe they will just fill it from the teachers, there is not that much of the year left," Percival said.

"Wha' abou' Sirius?" Ron said around his mouthful of baked potato.

Harry shrugged, "Maybe. Are we sure that we want to have him and Snape as our teachers though?"

"It has to be better than Lockhart," Neville replied.

"Anyone is better than Lockhart," Ron snorted, ignoring Hermione as she went to speak.

"Perhaps they could borrow one of the Aurors? Maybe Shacklebolt?" Percival said thoughtfully.

"That would make a lot of sense," Ron nodded. "Though they are needed as Aurors at the moment."

Despite their musings the students could not come up with a better plan, and in the end decided that there was no point thinking about it as it would not affect the outcome.

The fifth years boys were lounging on their beds. Harry and Percival had caught Ron and Neville up on what had actually happened to Remus, a muffliato around them, before they all settled in to do their homework. Seamus and Dean had their heads bent together over their History of Magic essays, while Ron was moaning about his Dream Diary for Divination. With a groan he hauled himself to his feet.

"I'm going to have to ask Lavender and Parvati, about this one. I don't think I've done it right," he grimaced.

"Go on," Harry waved him away, looking up from his Runes work sheet. "We're only doing homework, and the girls are the best ones to help you with that."

"I won't be back until late, as I'll go do rounds after."

"Who are you doing rounds with?"

"Padma."

"Well that's good," Harry nodded, eyes back on his parchment.

"Yeah, she's great. It also means I'm not stuck with Malfoy or Parkinson," he grinned. "Right see you later."

"There's been something I've been wondering," Neville said, looking at Harry.

"What's that Nev?"

"That song this morning, the one that the suits of armour were singing. What was that?"

"Just a muggle kids song Nev."

"The best bit was the hand actions," Seamus laughed.

"I wonder who did it?" Neville mused.

"Mmmm," Harry hummed.

"Nothing to say Mr Potter?" Dean reached over and hit his friend in the arm.

"What could I possibly say?" Harry gave a nonchalant shrug that had Percival reaching out to press on his shoulder as usual.

"How did ya pull it off?" Seamus asked eagerly.

"There may have been a Ravenclaws influence and I might have also had a little help from the Marauders," Harry said with a sly smile.

"Marauders?!" a pair of voices sounded at the door, a second before it burst open.

"Oi! Fellas, knock next time would ya?" Dean protested, having just removed his shirt to get changed into his pyjamas, when the door had swung open. There were a pair of fourth year girls in stairwell outside who could now be heard giggling as they continued on their way.

"Sorry mate," Fred said as George closed the door.

"But we thought we.."

"Heard you say Marauders…"

They looked at Harry expectantly.

"I might have," Harry responded with a smirk.

They stalked over, pushed Percival aside and each wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I know that you have heard of the Marauders before," Harry said with a smile.

"They are.."

"Our heroes.."

"They shouldn't be, not really," Harry said solemnly. "For the most part they were bullies."

The twins frowned, "What do you mean?"

"A lot of their pranks were humiliating and targeted one very small percentage of the Hogwarts population over and over. That's not to say that their victims didn't return the treatment. It was not until they reached their sixth and seventh years that they started growing up. Some of the pranks after that are quite ingenious."

Blue eyes examined Harry, as the pair dropped their arms and began to circle the small boy like a pair of hungry sharks.

"And How.."

"Do.."

"You…"

"Know?" they finished together.

"Ah, that would be because of this," Harry reached under his pillow and pulled out a worn and dogeared book. The handwritten title across the front read- _The Marauders Guide to Everything._

It seemed as if someone had spelled the Twins because they suddenly froze in place, before with a noisy inhalation, Fred placed a hand over his heart and George placed his on his forehead, "How do you come by this…this…."

"Fred help me out here, I don't know what to call it!"

"Jewel? Treasure? Trove of untold riches more valuable than gold?"

"Um, it was in a trunk with my Mum and Dad's things."

"Could it be?" the twins began circling Harry again, while the other boys just watched on.

"That what we have here.."

"In this small, unassuming…"

"Practically plain in every way…"

"Being, who hardly holds a candle to the magnificence of us…." they puffed out their chests and cockily ran a hand through their hair.

"Is a descendent of the mighty Marauders?" they stopped facing Harry with their heads tipped to the side.

"Ahhhh, yes?" Harry said meekly.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Fred moaned.

"Guys," Harry said plaintively.

"What did we do, to be left out like this?!" George whined.

"Guys, no."

"Have we offended you?!"

"Just, guys, shut it!" Harry pleaded. "I only found it the other day. Okay?!"

He was met with a pair of grins that would do a Cheshire Cat proud, George spoke first. "Oh, I am sure we can forgive you."

"As long as we can have a peek in that book," Fred said with a hopeful lilt at the end of his sentence.

"Ah, it's just that it's my Dad's, I don't have anything else of his apart from what was in that trunk." There was no way he was mentioning the Cloak and the Map was from all the Marauders so he did not feel that it counted.

"Maybe," George tapped his chin. "Maybe we could just,"

"Have a little read of it?" Fred finished.

"When I am done. And you can't use any of the ideas for products, until you clear it with the other Marauders," he said firmly.

"Other Marauders?" Fred asked with wide eyes.

"But of course.."

"If your Father was a Marauder…"

"Then the others are…."

"Excuse us…" they raced to to the door, "We have letters to write!" and slammed it shut behind them.

Gawain Robards cringed as he opened the door, and performed a quick scan. To be quite honest he found the decorative cats plates that surrounded the room to be more than a little disturbing.

"Classroom is clear Ma'am," he reported as Amelia Bones entered the room. "This room shows something concealed in that corner."

He pointed to the area that his detection spell had indicated, it appeared to be empty.

"Finite." It was Madame Bones who cast the spell to reveal an unassuming metal trunk no more than one foot wide and one and a half feet long. Lacking any frills or decoration it looked decidedly out of place in the room.

Both Aurors released a flurry of spells on the small box, revealing nothing but a minor locking charm, which only took a second to counter allowing the lid to spring open.

"Blessed Mother of Merlin!" Robards hissed. His supervisor, slapped the back of his head. "Sorry Ma'am."

"I can't say the I disagree," Bones muttered.

They could easily see four Black Quills lying on top of a sheaf of parchment tied with a coarse brown thread that they could just see, winding its way through the shafts of the quills. Clearly that was not all the box contained.

"Gloves?" he asked pulling a pair of Dragon hide gloves from the pocket of his robes.

"I believe that would be wise," Bones replied, withdrawing a similar pair.

"Why was she keeping the lines?"

"She wasn't. She was keeping their blood," Bones stated flatly, as she flicked through the pile. "There is way more than a dozen different student's hand writing here."

"So the question is, were they too afraid to say anything or did she Obliviate them?" Robards mused.

"We won't find out without asking and possibly medical examinations. I'll get McGonagall to arrange interviews. We'll need a secrecy spell on the room so that they can't talk about it afterwards as well. All the parents will need to be asked to grant permission and these," she raised the bundle of parchment, "will need to be kept in a secure location until the trial. It's a logistical nightmare."

"I thought the wards at Hogwarts were the strongest anywhere, how could this have happened?"

"I guess that is a question we will have to ask the illustrious Headmaster," she groaned, not looking forward to that conversation. "In the meantime, we need to bag and preserve this. Then we need to go an arrange about three hundred and forty interview to be completed within two weeks."

"Should we check her rooms as well?" Robards asked. He had not received a look like the one Amelia sent him since he was a rookie. "That would be a yes then." He moved to open the next door in the string of rooms.

"Nothing here, just a minor sleeping potion in some sweets by her bed."

"Yeah well, there is more in this trunk," Amelia called back. She was carefully spelling the lid shut, locking it with an impressive number of complex spells.

"What was it boss?"

"Best if no-one knows until the trial," Amelia Bones said firmly. "We should go and find the Headmaster."

"Amelia Bones and Gawain Robards, to see Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall," she told the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmasters office. It jumped aside as spritely as a thing of stone could. "Thank you." Amelia nodded to it as she went past.

"Your welcome." The gargoyle's unexpected reply made Robards stumble on the first stair, if he had looked back he would have seen it grin.

"Ah Amelia, my girl and Gawain, come in. So nice to see you," Albus Dumbledore greeted them as the entered his office. "Now when can I expect to have my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher back?"

"In about fifteen to twenty years, if she's still sane after being released from Azkaban," Amelia said drily.

"Oh come now my Dear, I'm sure it isn't that bad. Surely if she just pays a fine of some kind, this all can be resolved?" his eyes twinkled merrily.

Amelia Bones was not amused. Ignoring Dumbledore for the moment she turned to his Deputy. "Minerva I will need to you to send a letter requesting permission for every child at this school to be interviewed by the DMLE and examined by a Healer with qualifications in Mind Magics."

"But…..why?"

"Because it is clear that significantly more students have had detentions with her than have come forward, and with the evidence we now have, this matter is much more severe than we first expected."

"More severe than torturing the students with a Black Quill?!"

"Much." It was evident that Madame Bones was not going to elucidate. "But returning to that," she paused to look at Dumbledore with steel in her gaze, "allegedly Hogwarts has the most comprehensive set of wards of any building anywhere. How were these items bought onto the grounds? For that matter, how was a seventy foot long snake able to roam freely for an entire year without being discovered, at the very least by the portraits. I have visited the locations were the students were found and each and everyone of them has at least one portrait in the corridor."

"I am sure I don't know what you mean Amelia," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice that sounded like a warning.

Amelia Bones chose to ignore it, "I am here in my capacity as the Head of the DMLE, Dumbledore, you do not have leave to call me by my given name. I mean that you are complicit in both this crime and allowing the incidents of three years ago to occur unhindered. Not to mention that you were well aware that Sirius Black was innocent and did nothing to help free him. Furthermore I believe four years ago there were some events that require further investigation."

"I do not know what you mean Amelia," Dumbledore said more strongly.

"Don't give me that Dumbledore. Seraphina Picquery and I are in close communications. Not to mention my niece attends this damnable school. I had heard one side of the stories before. Through out this year I have been given more information. I wonder just how deep I'll find the rot when I start to investigate," she looked at him shrewdly. Noting his hand on his wand, she cast a silent and wandless shield. "I warn you that I am here in an official capacity Dumbledore to curse me now, is a crime in itself."

McGonagall had been standing to one side watching, but at this she glanced sharply at the Headmaster, before speaking to Madame Bones, "I have a form letter that I can send out to all of the parents, with the Heads of House contacting the non-magical parents directly."

"I would appreciate that. Please contact me as soon as you have the first approval. A team of curse breakers will be here on the weekend to examine the wards."

Through out the conversation Gawain Robards had stayed at the back of the room by the door. Now he held it open for his superior, but remained facing the room, until she had passed through it, then he stepped out behind her.

"I appreciate you having my back," she thanked him.

"How could I not?" he shrugged. "I can't believe he went to curse you. Do you know what it was?"

"I didn't hear an incantation, however the tip of his wand was green," she said tersely as they made their way out of the castle.

It had not been Petunia Dursley's week. After discovering Harry's letter Vernon had not let up. In the end he had lit the letter on fire and thrown it at her when it became to hot for him to hold any longer. Fortunately she had been able to move out of the way and had stomped on it to extinguish the flames before any damage was incurred, apart from a slight scorch mark on the kitchen lino. If that had been the end of it she might been ok but it wasn't. He had left for work early the next day and so she had quickly penned a note to Harry to let him know that she had not been able to read his letter. While she was out at the post office Vernon had called the house. Apparently he'd had his interview that day and the auditors had not been completely happy with all of the answers he had provided. At this stage he was not being fired, however he was being warned and placed on probation. This had only added to his bad mood.

When he arrived home, she had quietly fetched a glass of scotch for him as ordered, before he ranted about her being out again for a second day in a row. Then he ordered her to fetch him another drink, He was not happy when she questioned if he did needed straight away as it was only five o'clock and she wanted to put the dinner on. Vernon had yelled and blustered and thrown the glass at her. Screaming and yelling when she failed to catch it and it smashed on the floor. Ordering her to clean it up, he headed out to the pub.

The next morning Vernon seemed more calm, though she did not even try to get him to eat the doctor approved diet he was supposed to be following. The good mood did not last till evening. It seemed that the investigators had found more files that they wanted to question Vernon about. And he would have to have a second interview.

"I've already answered their blasted questions," he huffed, as he sipped his drink.

"Yes dear," Petunia responded meekly.

"It's not like I've done something wrong," he continued.

"No dear."

"Anyway, where's my dinner?" he barked.

"It will be ready in half an hour dear. Would you like another drink?"

"Next time, I want it on the table the moment I get home," he demanded.

"You'll need to let me know when you are leaving the office then," Petunia said calmly.

"I need to what? You think you have the right to monitor my movements?!" he growled.

"N..n..no dear. It's just that otherwise I won't know when you are going to get home. Somedays you are later than others."

"What use are you then?" he threw back his drink, it partially spilled out the sides of his mouth and down his neck. He wiped it away roughly then reached out and grabbed Petunias arm as she lent forward to take his glass. "Get me another. And enough with your sass!" he growled.

Petunia turned to walk over to the drinks cabinet.

Smack.

His hand hit her bottom, hard.

"Ow! Vernon! That hurt."

"It huuurtt," he mocked. "I'll tell you what'll hurt." He pushed his bulk upwards and swayed slightly on his feet. Suddenly she realised that she was penned in. There was only one door to the room and Vernon Dursley stood between her and it.

"What are you doing Vernon?" her voice quavered.

"Oooooh, what are ya doin' Ver'on?" he imitated in a high-pitched slur. "I'm teachin' you to listen ta' me. To do wha' yer tole."

He reached out with his fat fist, but she ducked and ran. She was fast but for a large man Vernon moved surprisingly quickly, and he managed to get a grip onto the back of her blouse. Tearing it as he pulled her backwards.

"Sssstop," she cried.

But there was no pause or respite, he merely drew his other arm back implacably and threw it towards her face. Hitting it with a solid crack. Causing her to squeal, as her legs gave way.

"Ha, you squeal like a stuck pig!" he laughed and stumbled away from her.

She stayed curled in a ball on the floor as she listened to him making his way out of the house. Eventually her tears stopped and she managed to pull herself to her feet. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that he would hit her. Not her Vernon! That was the sort of thing that happened to other people. Other women who were to weak to see what was in front of them, too misguided and easily fooled. The problem was what could she do about it now? Did she want to do something about it? Perhaps it was just a phase? Yes, that was it. A phase bought on by the extra stress of the audit at his work. All she had to do was bide her time, and everything would be back to normal again.

There was a tight sick feeling in her stomach, it actually reminded her of those times when she wished that she had magic too.

cut -

"Hey Mooney?" Sirius called as he ran up the stairs to Remus' room.

"Yeah, Pads," by the time Remus looked up Sirius was standing in his doorway unsurely, a piece of parchment clasped in one hand. "Come in you old dog."

"We got a letter today," Sirius said, sitting himself down on the edge of Remus' bed, ignoring the chair that was beside it.

"That's nice. You get letters everyday."

"But this one is from admirers," Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

"Admirers?"

"Well kind of. Perhaps possible disciples?…. No devotees….. No minions!" Sirius chuckled.

Remus reached out and snatched the piece of paper straight from Sirius' hand.

"Oi! No far, just because you have super fast wolf reflexes," he pouted.

"I'm never allowing you to read Muggle comics again. For the love of Magic I do not have…." Remus gave up mid argument, deciding that it really was not worth it. Instead he turned his eyes to the page. "This is from the twins!"

"Yeah, they want permission to use some of the ideas in the Marauders manual for their joke shop."

"I….I…really don't think it's a good idea," Remus said after a moments contemplation.

"Why?" Sirius asked.

"Well we were right gits. How would you feel if Snape marketed that spell that turned your clothes into that pink see-through number from fifth year."

"I rocked that skirt, I'll have you know," Sirius grinned, before adding more seriously, "I wouldn't mind. Though I don't think it would sell all that well. What if we had right of veto?"

"That could work. I …I would also like to run it by Harry, he might not care, but it is part of his heritage as well."

"He also has a good head on his shoulders for what should be classed as bullying, and I know he won't want them to cross that line."

"Yeah. I …you know …sometimes I wish, that we had a friend like him when we were at school."

"I don't," Sirius said resolutely. "Think about all the shite he has had to go through to become the man that he is. I would not wish that on anyone. We grew up. It just took us a bit longer to get there that's all."

"Yeah, hey do you think Kreacher would make me some chocolate pudding?" Remus looked at Sirius hopefully.

"Nah," Sirius laughed. "But lucky for you Harry taught me how to make it."

It had taken a near death experience but finally they were re-building their friendship.

cut -


	24. Chapter 24

"Now I am very excited to start introducing you to what has become my specialty," Filius Flitwick said excitedly. "Defensive Charms."

As yet, the Headmaster had not found a replacement Defence Against the Arts professor, so the teachers were sharing the position. The more cynical students said that it was because he had not tried looking as yet, while the rest thought that it was because it had been less than forty-eight hours since Umbridge had been escorted from the building. After a short stay at the Three Broomsticks she had been transferred to the Ministry holding cells. The student interviews were in progress, with almost every parent giving permission.

"Raise your hand if you have heard of the Patronus charm?" Flitwick asked. Then promptly fell off his stack of books in surprise as all of the fifth-year Gryffindor boys, commonly known to be the least studious of his students, raised their hands, it was not the group he expected to have heard of advanced charms. "Goodness, well we are going to be working towards that today. This will essential be an introductory lesson which will be followed up on in both sixth and seventh years with more practical elements. We will start off with the theory. Now can anyone tell me anything about the Patronus charm?"

Again, he was surprised by the number of hands elevated, ignoring the students who usually answered he turned to Seamus Finnigan. "Mr Finnigan, what can you tell me about it?" He did not really expect much but any participation in class that did not consist of blowing things up needed to be encouraged.

"I think me Mam said, it's a magical guardian innit?" Seamus frowned.

"It is indeed, well done. One point for Gryffindor. Anything else Mr Thomas?" the boy was muggle raised so it was curious that he had heard of the charm.

"It can be used to keep away Dementors and um….another creature thing…um Leth…folds."

"Lethifolds, well done. Another point. Who else?"

"Let me see," he glanced around and chose another student who rarely raised their hand in class. "Yes Mr Weasley?"

"Rumour has it that if you are a dark wizard you can't produce one, all you will get is maggots," the red-head grimaced. Several of the Ravenclaw girls paled.

"I think you have been listening to your brothers. That was indeed the rumour, but it has since been proven false."

"Perhaps someone from Ravenclaw this time, Mr Boot?"

"Ah, I don't know much but if you aren't strong enough it can be just a shield."

"Correct, take a point. Does anybody know the form it takes other than a shield and what that form is called?"

By this time Hermione was practically standing in her place, with her arm raised, however the professor choose a different student.

"Miss Padma Patil?"

"That would be its corporal form, which is in the shape of an animal."

"A point to you as well. Now I would like you to write an essay, just one foot, to be completed in this class covering, the casting, incantation and meaning of the form a Corporal Patronus takes. I'll give bonus marks if you can find out who debunked the rumour about the maggots. Then we will move on to trying to cast the charm. Don't be disappointed if you don't even produce a wisp of silver smoke at this time as it is very difficult, and we do not expect more than a silver mist this year, a shield in sixth and possibly seventh if you work very hard, you might produce a corporal patronus. Though many adults cannot produce one, so don't be discouraged."

There was a rustling as they all removed ink, quills, parchments and texts from their bags.

"Excuse me Professor?" Harry said politely, ignoring Hermione hissing at him to stop interrupting and to put his arm down.

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Filius glanced at the boy in interest noting the boy had one hand writing quickly while glancing between the Professor and the page.

"Um, well, what if we can already cast it?" Harry asked.

"Well, I guess, we could work on other things in those practical classes, only so long as it is a corporal patronus you can cast." Flitwick remembered there had been all those rumours in the boy's third year. Oh, and that was right, the incident over the summer.

"Yes Sir, and Percival as well."

"Really oh that is wonderful," he practically clapped his hand in his excitement.

"Come up the front the both of you, as soon as you have finished your essays."

It was the fastest Harry had every written and he had to admit that the penmanship was particularly poor, but it was an opportunity to show Flitwick what he could do, and maybe remind him of the promised extra lessons.

"Professor," Harry said quietly, as Flitwick finished pointing Seamus to the correct chapter in the text.

"Ah, yes Mr Potter, finished have you? And Mr Graves? Ok, down the front we come."

The professor led them to the front of the room.

"Now if you would be so kind as to cast…."

"Expecto Patronum," Harry incanted. Then promptly dropped his wand in surprise when instead of Prongs a large feline shape burst forth.

"Sorry Professor!" he squeaked.

Percival was staring at the point in space where Harry's patronus had just dissolved into mist.

"Mr Graves?" Flitwick prompted.

"Sorry, sir," Percival shook his head and flicked his wand, producing his panther.

"Oh well done, ten points Mr Potter and twenty for you Mr Graves for the silent casting. For homework Mr Potter, I want you to start work on casting it non-verbally. Mr Graves can help you. Mr Graves you are to work on producing it wandlessly."

"Um, Sir, a while ago you offered to give me some additional lessons," Harry prompted.

"Oh my! I had forgotten. We will need a place to practice."

"There is a room we use to practice on the fifth-floor sir," Harry suggested.

"Oh I do like this space," Flitwick said as he entered the room. "Maybe I should ask for it for my classroom next year."

"Um, sir we would really appreciate it if you didn't. We put a lot of effort into cleaning it and fixing it up. It's a great place to do some quiet study."

"Indeed. Is this the reason why all of the Gryffindor boys seem to be doing so well this year?"

"I don't know. I think a large part of it had to do with proving Umbridge wrong. Not to mention finding out that our booklists were missing at least one vital book."

"What book was that?"

"The potions preparation manual."

The professor frowned, remembering a rumour from the year before. "_What about Basic Wand Care and Wand Movements- A beginners guide_?"

"Never heard of it Sir," Harry stated emphatically.

"Well I suggest you borrow a copy from the library and share it around. It should also have been on your list. It's no wonder that Mr Weasley and Mr Longbottom were using poorly matched wands for such a long time. Now have you been practicing your Patroni?"

"I can't get it without saying the incantation yet, but I can produce a silver cloud."

"Same," Percival said.

"Well let me see. Remember concentrate on a happy memory" he encouraged.

"If you don't mind me saying Sir, it doesn't have to be a memory, or at least not a real one."

"What are you saying Mr Potter."

"It can be just an idea or a dream, not a real memory. When I first cast it, I was focussing on the joy and confidence at the belief that I was the one who cast the spell. It's confusing, I know, but you have to know the situation. After that it was because I had met Sirius and the thought of hopefully having a family and escaping the Dursley's. Now that I have a family it is the memories that I've made."

"So, you are postulating that it is the emotion that fuels the charm, and the memory is merely a conduit, therefore if you can create the emotions by another means, for example a thought then it will also work."

"Yes Sir."

"Good. That is exactly right, though many people can not generate enough emotion from the other methods so focussing on a happy memory is easiest. I want you to concentrate on the emotion then, and see if that helps. Remember to make it non-verbal, not even a whisper."

Harry drew his wand and cast, lips tightly sealed together, a solid silver shield forming before him.

"Oh, Bravo Mr Potter, keep going. Now Mr Graves."

Percival stood silently for a moment, gathering himself, the he raised his hand and….his panther burst forth, to stalk the room.

"Oh well done! This is truly marvellous," Flitwick clapped his hands. "Well done both of you. Keep trying throughout the week. Now, I want us to move on to some other duelling charms. Mr Graves if you already know the spells you are to work without incantations and where you achieve that you are to continue wandlessly. First…"

And so, the training began. They started with advanced shielding spells, Protego Maxima, Protego Totalum and Protego Horribilis. All of which Percival managed with silent wandless casting to the short professor's surprise. Then given that some spells could not be shielded against they practiced dodging.

"Well I must say you have both done very well. Much better than I had anticipated. It is unusual for wizards of your age to have the stamina you do, especially with the amount of time you have been both spent in the infirmary recently."

"The healer I go to over the summer insisted I have an exercise program to help my bones recover."

"What happened?" Flitwick asked in concern.

"Um, let's just say that before this year, I wasn't fed the way a young wizard should be and leave it go at that."

"But surely Andromeda treated you the same as Nymphadora?"

"Androm…..Professor Flitwick, Dumbledore sent me to live with my mother's sister, Petunia."

"He did what? That lying….I knew something was wrong! When you were so small in first year, he said that you were a fussy eater. I pointed out the rags you were wearing and he said…"

"Thank you for noticing professor," Harry interrupted, "but Dumbledore left me on their porch in the middle of the night. He was never going to tell you the truth."

"Has someone told Severus? He will be devastated. He was good friends with your mother you know. Before their forth year, you rarely saw one without the other."

"Yes, sir Professor Snape knows, and he wasn't best pleased. He has been making my nutrient and bone strengthening potions."

"Good! I believe that I need to have a word…."

"Professor please don't."

"But why? Mr Pot…Harry," his tone softened, "he cannot be allowed to get away with this. I would have found you myself if I had known that was where he had placed you."

"I know, but," Harry went with his gut instinct to trust his professor. "The fact is Dumbledore is planning something and we don't quite know what it is. If I take him to court over it now, the chances are that he would lose the Headmastership but would still have enough influence to avoid imprisonment. If that happens then he will be out in the world doing who knows what. If he is here at the school, then we can keep an eye on him."

"But…." Flitwick then sighed. "Yes, I see. The Headmaster has always been….well focussed on his idea of the Greater Good I suppose. Not to mention willing to take whatever steps he deems necessary to ensure that it happens no matter the cost. Still, I am very sorry that I did not push him harder."

"If you had figured it out sooner, the chances are that he would have Obliviated you."

Flitwick was not the Head of Ravenclaw for no reason, "Oh poor Poppy!"

"It's only conjecture at this point, but we believe so. We are hoping to be able to have her checked at some point."

"I will keep my silence Mr Potter, but should you need anything outside of these lessons, please do not hesitate to ask."

"I won't sir, thank you."

"If I can manage it I will arrange to have Madame Pomfrey examined. Mr Graves, I don't want to see anymore holding back in class!"

"Yes sir."

"Well off you go then boys, it would not do to be out after curfew. I've heard all about your mentoring and how the younger years look up to you both, so you had better set a good example. Good night."

"That's mostly Ron sir. Night professor and thank you."

It was the last Staff meeting of the year and the teachers had all gathered in the staff room.

Dumbledore, as was his habit, was the last to enter the room. He liked to let the teachers have some time to talk amongst themselves before he arrived, often interesting titbits were discussed and reported back to him by the portraits in the room.

"Well good evening everyone. How are we travelling? It is not long until the OWL and NEWT exams, is there anything we need to be aware of?"

"I'll start," Professor Sprout said, sitting up in her chair. "My NEWT students are all performing well and I should imagine they are all on track for either Exceed Expectations or Outstanding, unless something goes wrong. The OWL students are the usual mixed bag, though I expect good things from Neville Longbottom, who seems to have come into his own this year."

"Longbottom, is a disaster!" Snape scoffed.

"Oh stop it! If you just eased up on the boy, you would find he has an exceptional knowledge of plants that would benefit him in potions."

"Yes, but he does not bring it across!"

"How can he when he is petrified of you?! We've all heard the rumour of how you are the boy's boggart. That should not be Severus! You are a teacher, not a fear inducing monster."

"Well excuse me for trying to ensure that none of the students are injured in my class!" Severus protested benignly, knowing full well that Albus Dumbledore would not allow him to act in any other way. He held hope that with Harry and Percival tutoring all the Gryffindors they would do alright on their OWLs and should any of them make it into the NEWT classes then he would find a way to ensure, even if he could not treat them any better, that they at least got all the information they required. Maybe he could mention employing private tutors to Ha….Potter. He deliberately subsided into grumbling not noticing the odd look he was receiving from Filius Flitwick.

"Right so apart from Mr Longbottom…" Dumbledore prompted.

"Mr Potter, Mr Graves and Miss Abbott have come along nicely this year, only falling a little behind Mr Longbottom. The rest of the class is a fairly standard mix."

"Good, good," Dumbledore said distractedly. What was going on with the boy? Surely the Dursley's had beaten in to him that he could not do well at school? By now it should be an ingrained habit! He resolved to have a word with them before the boy went back in the summer. "Who's next?"

"Oh, I might as well get it over with," Severus Snape huffed. "The students are abysmal as per usual. I only expect a couple of Outstandings from the fifth years."

"And who do you expect to score so well Severus?" McGonagall asked.

"Draco of course, Miss Davis, and Mr Graves." There was no way he was telling the old coot that he was hopeful Harry would also score an Outstanding.

"Not Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked in surprise.

"Not until she learns some finesse, no."

"I don't suppose I can persuade you into letting the EE students into your class Severus?" Dumbledore wheedled.

Severus knew it was an act, it was the same set up each year, nearly word for word. "No Headmaster. The NEWT potions students cannot just follow the text! They must be able to modify, correct and invent in order to pass their NEWTS and avoid incidents. The students who score EE in their OWLS do not have those skills."

"And the NEWT students?"

"Passable."

"Why Severus, that's practically a compliment! Do you not have the Weasley twins in your class?" Sprout asked.

"Hmm, well no one can say they are not inventive."

In actual fact Severus was quite pleased with the twins, his class was one they did not muck around in. In return for their good behaviour, he allowed them time in the lab and often cast an eye over their new potions. He had been particularly pleased with the animal transformation potion and had even asked them if they could try to make one for bats, much to their delight. Crossing his arms across his chest he let them all know he was done.

"Right then Professor Binns?" Albus looked around, but the Ghost had floated off during the earlier discussion. "I will catch up with him later."

"I have news," Filius Flitwick practically twittered from his seat.

"Yes?" Albus asked curiously.

"Firstly, the NEWT students all seem to be going well, though I have recommended Daisy Sotherby take her NEWTs at the August sitting at the Ministry, due to the situation at home."

"And what situation is that?" Minerva asked.

"Oh, I thought you were all aware," Filius Flitwick was shocked that Minerva was not aware as the Deputy Headmistress. "Her mother is exceedingly unwell. Dying in fact and Daisy has had to have several weekends at home to be with her family and help her father with the younger children. Consequently she has been rather distracted. I have given her approval to leave school when the time comes, and I'll monitor the situation to ensure she is coping in the meantime."

"I don't think it is wise for her to just leave the school Filius. I do wish you had spoken to me about it at first."

"Why Albus? Are you going to prevent her from going to her mother's funeral?"

"Well no," he looked oddly ashamed. "But she will need to come back if she wants to sit the exams. I'm afraid I can't give an exemption for her to do them later."

"It is lucky that it is not up to you then. I have already arranged it Albus, Madame Marchbanks was quite happy with the application and accepted it immediately."

Albus looked over his half-moon spectacles and clucked disappointedly, Filius ignored him, "Now apart from that the seventh years are going well and I don't expect any results below and EE. With the fifth years, I have had something of a revelation."

"Really?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, there are quite a few I am expecting to achieve Outstandings, more than usual, and I believe that I may have two who will go even better and get an O+," he said gleefully.

"And who might they be?"

"Percival Graves and Harry Potter!"

"Who?!" Albus was startled into paying attention again. That dratted boy, if it had just been Herbology he could have let it go, but charms as well! Perhaps it was a talent he had inherited from his mother.

"Mr Potter has been improving nicely and in fact I believe has instituted something of a study group. Meaning all of his year seem to be doing rather well. I have started to progress him onto non-verbal casting."

"That seems a little premature," Albus said disapprovingly. That had to be stopped! There was no point giving him skills that he would not need….though perhaps a little pushing might be good. Enough that if…. No, when he fought Voldemort he would be able to wear him down. There was no chance the boy would defeat him after all, Tom was nearly seventy years his senior and well versed in the esoteric arts, but Harry might be able to wear him down enough that Albus could swoop in, though not early enough to actually save the boy the horcrux needed to be destroyed after all, and defeat the villain. It had worked rather well the last time. Certainly, it was a plan worth considering, over the 'having the boy sacrifice himself' route Albus had been planning.

"I actually think the boy needs to be pushed a little, provided with challenges," Flitwick argued.

"I've noticed an improvement in his work in my class this year as well, perhaps the more intense curriculum has provided the challenge you mentioned," Severus said thoughtfully.

"I thought you said the boy was a dunderhead," Albus challenged.

"He has improved from barely scraping an Acceptable to an Exceeds Expectations, Albus. I am not talking about miracles."

Sprout was nodding while Minerva frowned thoughtfully, "Yes, now that you mention it he has improved greatly in my class as well. I had always thought him strangely average. Which was rather disappointing considering how bright his parents were. This year though he has worked harder. His homework has been of a much better quality and he has asked questions that reveal he is looking into things on a much deeper level. I might try giving him more advanced work for extra credit as a bit of an experiment."

"Or simply also have him work non-verbally," Flitwick said.

"I would not want to step on your toes. No how about we extend him in different ways. I might work towards conjuration or the animals transformation."

"You should consider doing the same for Mr Graves," Flitwick said.

"I might try it with all the students who I expect to achieve Outstandings," she mused.

"I feel that we have gotten a bit off topic. Perhaps you could continue with your assessment Filius, or we shall be here all night," Bathsheba Babbling butted in.

"Oh my, yes. I do apologise, but you know how I get," Filius apologised, there were nods from around the room. "Mr Potter has improved immensely, but the one who has shocked me, especially following his accident has been Mr Graves. Currently I am working on non-verbal wandless casting."

"And how is he going with that?" Albus Dumbledore asked.

"Brilliantly," Filius chortled. "He actually managed to cast his patronus."

"I'm sure I did not understand. Do you mean he can cast a patronus or that he can cast it non-verbally and wandlessly?"

"Oh both," Filius nodded. "It was stunning. He could even manage a Protego Horribilis silently. I am now have him working on doing everything wandlessly."

There was stunned silence from around the room. Albus Dumbledore was frozen, something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. He had been sure. So very sure that the tattoo on the boy's neck was nothing more than a coincidence. Had the boy been unaware? Had the curse enabled him to access powers that he could not before? Had the boy actually died? Was that the catalyst needed for him to become the Master of Death? No, no, no, no! One question followed another through the endless stream of his consciousness. Could the boy still die? Maybe he should test that theory? Albus had always assumed that once he found all three Hallows and became the Master of Death that he would gain immortality. Surely all he had to do was take the Hallows from the boy, then as the wand was passed between wizards the title would pass to him. If he could he would have rid himself of the boy but that would push Harry Potter away and the younger boy was integral to his plans. It was unfortunate. He would have to start subtly discrediting the Graves boy first so that Harry would not stray.

It never once occurred to the old man that two of the Hallows could never be his. The Cloak was only ever passed from Parent to Child in familial linear progression, from Peverell to Potter. Similarly, the ring, passed to the oldest male child in the Peverell family. Currently it was owned by one Tom Marvolo Riddle however should he pass, it would go to the next in line. Only the wand passed its allegiance from hand to hand in battle, a litany to Death through the ages.

Pushing aside his musing he turned back into the robust debate his staff were having and raised a hand to quiet them. "I am sorry I was lost in thought what is this argument about?" he turned to the scowling potions master.

"Ms Babbling feels it is appropriate to nominate a child who has never studied her subject for examination at OWL level, Ms Vector agrees. The rest of us feel that the student should at least sit some kind of test to assess the level their understanding before sending them straight to OWLs."

"Self-study can be patchy at best," McGonagall explained patiently.

"Yes, but the students have been completing the same work sheets as the class all year, and I have given them the worksheets for the past two years as well. All their work has been exemplary."

"And who is this student?"

"Students," Bathsheda stressed. "Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter both pulled out of divination and are studying Runes and Arithmancy independently. I believe that Ron Weasley has been studying Runes as well, though he does not feel that he is ready to sit his OWLS yet and is going to ask if he can test into fifth year Runes at the start of next year. To be quite frank after seeing some of his work I believe Mr Potter, could test straight into the end of seventh year, he is not that far from being able to sit his NEWT. If he had just started in the third year….."

"No," Dumbledore said, he had to draw the line somewhere. Yes, getting some skills so that he could oppose Voldemort for a little while could work, but there was absolutely no point in him studying Arithmancy and Runes.

"I beg your pardon!"

"I said no. Harry may not sit OWLs in your subjects, regardless of any self-study he has done. I have not given him permission, he is to sit his Divination OWL as planned. Mr Longbottom may do as he pleases as long as Augusta agrees, and Neville sits a placement test. I will speak to Molly about Ronald before the start of the year."

"With all due respect Headmaster, you cannot prevent the boy from taking the OWL."

"I'm his Magical guardian!"

Minerva pinched her nose, "No you are not. Currently his magical guardian, according to the Ministry, is Seraphina Picquery. A fact which I believe you have been told Albus. I will contact Madame Picquery and Mrs Weasley. We should treat all the boys the same, and we need to be mindful that this sets a precedent for the future. Usually those who self-study just take their assessments at the Ministry at a later time. I do not think this is a bad method though, as long as you and Septima are happy to mark the additional tests?" McGonagall said. Both witches nodded happy with the compromise.

The rest of the meeting passed unremarkably, with Albus Dumbledore paying little attention because he thoughts were caught up in planning his next move. His distraction meant he missed the other teachers plans to begin a trial of pushing those students who were excelling at the course work across the five core subjects (Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Astronomy, and Herbology) and were putting obvious effort into their others. So far, they had identified Percival Graves, Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Harry Potter and Susan Bones from fifth year. Neville Longbottom was hotly debated as he had improved immensely and they thought that testing in to Ancient Runes might make up for his potions score, at this time they decided to n waiting to see, but at the very least he would receive extension work in Herbology, at Madame Sprout's insistence as she declared him a protege.

The banging of a gavel announced the beginning of the session. A voice rang through the courtroom.

"In the case of Delores Jane Umbridge and Cornelius Oswald Fudge against the students of Hogwarts on the date of the second of April," said the Chief Warlock, his voice easily carrying up into the tiers. Percy Weasley was once again the scribe and had began taking notes. "Delores Jane Umbridge is charged with the possession of a class A prohibited item and its use on more than a dozen witches and wizards of various ages and including the Heirs of six Ancient and Noble houses. Mr Fudge is charged with being an accessory to the aforementioned crimes. Presiding is Tiberius Ogden, Chief Warlock. Interrogator: Augusta Longbottom, Dowager Lady Longbottom. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley. The trial of Delores Jane Umbridge will be first followed immediately by the trial of Cornelius Oswald Fudge. Amelia Susan Bones and Gawain Robards of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be presenting evidence. Lawyer for….."

The sound of running footsteps could be heard outside the door.

"Madame Bones!" a voice hissed from the other side of the door. "Psst Madame Bones!"

Tiberius Ogden frowned, "Would you like to have a moment to sort that out Madame Bones?"

"Yes, Chief Warlock," she nodded to him respectfully and made her way to the door.

On the other side of the door stood one of the Auror guards, with whom she had a furiously whispered conversation. Ashen faced she turned back to the room and announced in a clear voice, "There has been a break in to the Ministry cells, probably in the early hours of this morning. When the Aurors went to retrieve Ms Umbridge from her holding cell, they found the guards unconscious, the door blown off its hinges and the cell empty. Senior Auror Gawain Robards has commenced an investigation. Initial findings show that there was no incursion into the ministry overnight, both the floos and the entrance to the muggle world have been inactive since Nine- forty-five last night. The first activation this morning was at six-fifteen when Daniel Roper arrived at work. He is one of the janitors and that is the time he arrives every morning. Both Aurors on duty show signs of a concussive hex as well as Oblivation. The Obliviators are trying to retrieve their memories as we speak."

There were shouts from the gantry as Madame Bones finished. It took Tiberius Ogden, releasing a canon like boom from his wand before they settled down.

"We have two options, to continue the trial with the evidence that has been uncovered so far in the absence of Ms Umbridge," he paused to look around the room, "and her Lawyer or to pause proceedings until she is re-arrested. We can then proceed onto the trial for Mr Fudge." He waved his wand and said a quiet incantation. In front of each seat rose a small stand containing two numbered discs and a round divot. "This will be a silent vote, remove the tokens and place your vote face down on the circle first and the other on top of it. The number one shall be a vote for a trial in absentia. The number two shall indicate a vote for delaying the trial of Ms Umbridge and proceeding straight to the trial for Mr Fudge. Is this understood?" There was a chorus of Aye's from around the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please cast your votes."

There was a pause before a light flashed on the stand in front of the Chief Warlock. "Let it be known that the decision is made. The trial of Delores Jane Umbridge will commence in absence of her person." He turned to look at Madame Bones, "Madame Bones as you are presenting evidence, I presume that you have recused yourself from voting?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied solemnly. "Gawain Robards has gone to retrieve the evidence. He is turning over the investigation into her disappearance to Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, so he may still be present for the trial."

"Very well," he glanced up and saw that Robards had just re-entered the room followed by an Auror wearing dragon hide gloves carefully carrying a small plain trunk."

"Lawyer for the prosecution, Mr Samuel MacMillan," Augusta called.

He stood from his seat at the side of the floor," Yes Dowager Lady Longbottom."

"Perhaps it would be best if you begin with who you are representing and who engaged your services."

MacMillan walked to the centre of the floor and turned to face the Chief Warlock. A lectern rose from the floor, and he placed his papers upon it.

"I am representing a group of Students at Hogwarts, aged between twelve and eighteen. Initially I was engaged by Heir Potter."

There were snorts and jeers from around the room.

"Heir Potter being aware that due to the current administration's slander of him that he would receive little support from this body, initially just gathered evidence. It started with a pair of Gryffindor second years, Iris Midgen and Veronica Burbage. They were given detention for 'breathing too loudly' and made to write the phrase 'Children should be silent' with a Black Quill enough time in a single session to have visibly bleeding wounds afterwards. Heir Potter accompanied them both via their Head of House's office to the Infirmary. Though both children's magic was notably affected at the time, their subsequent treatment has allowed the wounds to heal, and they have since fully recovered. It was after this incident that Heir Potter first contacted me."

He removed two photographs from the pile, and instead of projecting them as he had done with the notes during Harry's trial, he made copies and sent them flying into the stands. Each copy was life sized to allow the members of the Wizengamot to see just how small the girl's hands were.

"Following this Heir Potter himself, was given a detention when he was visiting a friend in the infirmary. He was made to write the phrase 'I must not tell lies' with the aforementioned Quill, every night for a week. Every night Ms Umbridge inspected the wounds and would announce that 'the message had not sunk in yet, so he had better return the following evening' until the wounds began to scar. Over the next several weeks Heir Potter became aware of several others receiving similar detentions, so he made it known that anyone receiving such a detention should contact me, providing evidence of the injuries incurred. I now have possession of fifty-seven such photographs. Several of the students have provided written statements as to the circumstances of their detentions and I believe that the DMLE was to interview all the students at Hogwarts."

McMillan explained in detail, supported by the photographs and statements, every use of the Black Quill that he was aware of. By the end even those who had mocked the claims at the start were feeling sickened. Gawain Robards then stood and confirmed the details with further information from the student interviews.

"Is there any further evidence pertinent to this case?" Augusta Longbottom asked, when Robards had finished.

"Yes Ma'am," Madame Bones stood. "I was one of the investigating Aurors when Ms Umbridge's rooms were searched. A trunk was found in Ms Umbridge's private rooms. After the initial inspection it was re-sealed and bought to the Ministry to be safely stored."

The box was brought forward and placed on a small table that sat to the side of the lectern but was still clearly visible to the entire Wizengamot. She waved her wand and muttered a phrase. When unsealed she donned a pair of dragon-hide gloves and standing behind the box lifted the lid.

Carefully removing the four Quills from the box, she said, "The contents as logged are follows: four Black Quills." They were taken out and placed on the table beside the box. "Five hundred sheets of parchment, all are covered with writing, dark red in colour. Detection spells logged sixty-five different magical signatures. All writing is in blood."

"But MacMillan said he had fifty-seven clients," a Lord from the tiers called out.

Samuel stood again, having taken a seat off to the side when the Auror had taken the floor, "Correction I said I have fifty-seven photos. These are ones that the students have been courageous enough to take. There may be other students who suffered through a detention but for whatever reason, perhaps a parent working at the Ministry or a lack of knowledge of what is appropriate detention in the magical world, have not sent in photos or otherwise made contact with me." He took his seat once more.

"Thank Mr McMillan," Madame Bones said. "We also believe following the interviews that some students may have been Obliviated of their detentions. They have been referred to the appropriate Healers, but I do not have access to the results at this time." She paused waiting to see if there were further questions.

"Please continue Madame Bones," Tiberius Ogden said.

"Next we have a pair of magic suppression cuffs. A book on ritual magic, which is dog-eared on page one hundred and forty-nine and an onyx and gold ring engraved with the words Insanabilis Dolor."

Noting the confused looks from some of the members Augusta Longbottom asked, "Madame Bones, could you please explain the meaning of those words to the Wizengamot?"

"They translate to Incurable pain. The ring is cursed to cause whoever wears it with a never-ending pain that is believed to be as strong as the cruciatus curse, the curse endures even after the ring is removed."

"And what ritual was on the dog-eared page?" the Chief Warlock asked.

"It is a spell that has been designed to siphon magic from one witch or wizard to another," Bones answered flatly. "I have consulted with the Department of Mysteries if I may call in their expert?"

"Please do so," Ogden nodded.

Amelia nodded to the Auror guarding the door, who opened it and a moment later a figure in a black robe entered. He had his cowl down so that his face was visible, revealing the man to be Algernon Croaker, 'the Face' of the Unspeakables.

"Unspeakable Croaker. Can you tell us about this ritual?"

"The Ritual itself was designed to allow a small portion of magic to be passed from one person to another. Initially it would have been used between family members, such as mother and child. If one, usually the child, was ill, did not have enough magic to heal themselves and looked to be close to death then the siphon could be used to give them a little magical boost. This would allow healing to occur. The siphon was removed when the child was well, or the crisis was over. The concerning factor is the suppression cuffs. Usually the ritual is limited by the available spare magic. On average, in an adult, this is somewhere between ten and fifteen percent. In children studying at Hogwarts that value is much less and is in the order of five percent. By using the suppression cuffs and blocking the child's use of magic, it might be possible to access a greater percentage of their magic, perhaps as much as eighty percent. Though this is completely hypothetical."

A horrified McMillan asked, "And what would then happen when the cuffs were removed?"

The Unspeakable nodded, "The child would only have access to that small remaining portion."

There was silence.

"Are you saying that Ms Umbridge was planning on….stealing our children's magic?" Lord Fawley asked.

"Without her here, I cannot say. However, the suppression cuffs were in the same trunk as the ritual book, along with samples of the children's magic and blood. There were additional notes written in the margins of the page containing the details of ritual, which seem to indicate that at the very least she was searching for a way to use the ritual more than once and to allow the caster to be the one to receive the magic as the ritual is designed for the one performing it to be the one sacrificing their magic."

Again, there was silence.

In the end Tiberius Ogden spoke, "Was there anything more that you discovered Unspeakable Croaker?"

"Not in relation to this case," he smirked.

"Madame Longbottom do you have any questions for the Unspeakable, before he is allowed to return to his work?"

"Several," she delicately rubbed a hand across her eyes feeling immensely grateful that her Grandson had not been on that list of fifty-seven names. "Would the adjusted ritual have worked? How many children's magic would she been able to have siphon at one time? What would the consequences for the children have been in this had continued for…..say…the rest of the school year? How long would the siphon remain after the ritual, as in does it fade naturally or is a subsequent ritual required for its removal? Can we tell if she has actually used the ritual already? I have more but…." She gestured helplessly.

Auror Robards stepped forward, "Madam Longbottom to ease the minds of the Wizengamot allow me to answer the last question first. As part of the interviews the Aurors conducted a brief test to detect if any of the students were magically impaired in anyway, while a couple tested positive for alertness potions and another for a minor love potion. None appeared to have their magic restricted in the way this would. In addition, we checked with the teachers and no student has had a sudden decrease in their magical ability. I apologise for interrupting, Unspeakable Croaker." He stepped back out of the way.

"To answer your questions," the Unspeakable said, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. "At least on the preliminary testing ,it appears that the adjusted ritual would work, though there is some doubt as to whether or not it would kill the children and transfer all of their magic to the recipient. The results for the children would depend on the magical strength of the child, however even a child who had moderately string magic, could be reduced to the ability of a squib." He ignored the shocked gasps. "Without performing the ritual, it is impossible to tell whether the siphon would fall off via natural attrition over time, normally it is removed by casting a simple 'Finite Incantateum'."

"Thank you. We will not keep you from your duties any longer," the Chief Warlock dismissed the Unspeakable. "Is there any further evidence?"

"No Sir," Amelia Bones responded. "Though we are unsure as to why the cursed ring was also in the trunk."

"I believe that Ash Brown and Eustace Fawley are available to give their testimony, Chief Warlock," McMillan said.

"Lord Fawley as you are the one who initially presented this issue to us shall we start with your Heir?"

"Yes, Chief Warlock."

"And do you give your permission for Eustace to take Veritaserum?"

"Yes, Chief Warlock."

The questioning of both boys went smoothly, and it was not long before they were dismissed.

"You have heard the charges, you have seen the evidence. Lords Fawley and Brown, you are recused from voting. Now we are called on to decide. Raise your wands if you believe the accused to be guilty of the charges as stated?" He paused to count the raised wands. "Wands down. Now raise your wands if you believe the accused to be innocent of the charges as stated? I declare in an unanimous result that Delores Jane Umbridge is guilty of all charges. Madame Bones, please issue a warrant for her arrest. Sentencing will occur once she has been detained. There will be a short recess of twenty minutes before the commencement of the next trial."

"Mr Graves, Mr Potter and Miss Bones if you could all stay behind?" McGonagall called at the end Transfiguration. She waited to say anything further until the rest of the students had cleared the classroom. "It has been decided that due to your continued high level of performance in all of your classes that you shall be provided with the opportunity to participate in some extension work. It will be expected that you maintain your current level of performance and complete all the tasks that are given in class pertaining to the normal curriculum first."

"How will it work Professor?" Susan asked.

"At the beginning of class, you will be given the normal class work and then when that work is completed you will be given extra work. In some cases, such as transfiguration, you will be given extra reading to be completed on your own time." She absent-mindedly tapped her hand on a small pile of books on her desk.

"What if our marks fall, or we feel like we can't do it?" Harry asked a bit tentatively.

McGonagall smiled at him, "In either of those case you will simply notify your teacher, cease the extra work and return any of the materials you have been provided with."

"Will we have time to actually learn very much before the end of the year?" Susan asked.

"Think of this as a trial. We are only offering the opportunity to a select few students in fifth year. There will be six of you in total. The other three are Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot and Padma Patil. If it is a success, we will then make plans over the summer for the other years. At this time, we do not wish you to speak of this to the other students, though we are aware that eventually they will notice. If asked, just say you are participating in a trial and are unable to speak about it. It will become more general knowledge next year, assuming it is a success." Seeing that they were happy with this explanation the professor continued, "Now for transfiguration," she paused to pick up the books and hand one to each student, "We will begin studying the theory for the Animagus transformation."

"Ah, Professor?" Percival said, holding the book towards her.

She frowned as she reached out to take it. "Are you turning this opportunity down Mr Graves?"

He smiled, "No Professor. It's just that I have already completed this study."

"Well perhaps you should review it and then we can commence the process of transforming?"

"You misunderstand Professor," Percival said politely. "I can already transform."

"But you are not registered at the Ministry!" McGonagall protested.

"No, that is because I was living with Seraphina in America when I learnt how. I am registered with the ICW."

"Well, that is impressive Mr Graves. If in the meantime you would be able to mentor, the others I would appreciate it. In class I will expect you to work on your silent and wandless casting."

"That will not be a problem Professor."

Harry had been silent in thought. When it came out how would Ron take it? Would he be jealous? Neville would be happy for him that was a given, there was not a jealous bone in his body. And Hermione? Studying was her thing, he could not help but ask, "Professor what about Hermione?"

"I may not discuss another student's results with you Mr Potter," was the stern reply.

He was not sure why he was worried about what she thought anymore anyway. It had been months since they had been close, and as much as he did not want to give up on the friendship, he was not sure that he liked the person she was becoming.

"Yes Professor. Thank you for the opportunity," Harry murmured.

McGonagall smiled at him gently, "You're welcome Mr Potter. I must say I am most pleased with the change in your attitude this year. I regret not being able to make you a prefect."

"That's alright Professor. I think Ron is better at it than I would have been anyway. He's like a big brother to the younger years."

"Well, you had best all make your way to lunch," McGonagall dismissed them.

Today was the day that the results from the audit at Grunnings would be released. The last week had not been a pleasant time for Petunia. The added stress had turned Vernon into a raging bull. Nothing could calm him. If she had the dinner on the table when he arrived home, it had cooled too much and he got angry. If dinner was not on the table then he would rage that it was late. He had started dropping in to the pub on his way home, and walked through the door, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes. He was quick to raise his fists in anger.

Petunia had been holding out hope that today would be the day their lives returned to normal. As luck would have it she took the roast out of the oven just as she heard the car pull up in the garage, there was a glass of scotch already sitting by his place at the table. The roast was carved as she heard the car door slam shut. The door rattled as he turned the handle and she placed the plates on the table.

"How was…." The thunderous look on his face silenced Petunia immediately.

Vernon ate the meal, complaining about the auditors. He was being placed on probation for six months with a warning that he could not accept personal gifts in exchange for giving out discounts, nor could he deal with any transactions for family members and finally all discounts given would need to be approved by his Senior Manager. He then moved onto complaining about the amount of traffic on the way home, the meat was too dry and finally 'those idiot cyclists'. Petunia hummed along in a conciliatory fashion.

Finally he stopped and looked at her, "What have you been doing today?"

She listed the chores she had completed, the discussions she'd had with the neighbours and her phone call to Dudley. Vernon grunted, starring at her with beady eyes.

"Did you see that man from number twelve," he asked.

"The man from number twelve?" she repeated in confusion, before continuing cautiously. "There is no man at number twelve. That's where the Jones sisters live."

He grunted, then snapped, "I've had enough with your lies! Clean up this mess. I'm going out to the pub."

Petunia could not help saying, "Shall I call a taxi for you?"

Vernon pushed his chair away from the table and stood up slowly, "Why would I need a taxi?"

"B…because, you've already had a drink dear. They say you shouldn't drive after you've had a drink," she said in a tone aimed to appease.

"You just want to use the car while I'm gone," he accused. "I'm not leaving it here so that you can whore it up over at number twelve."

Petunia did not comment on the ridiculousness of the statement. Despite the fact that the Jones' were spinster sisters, they were also over eighty, then the house was just four doors up, to get there she would not even have to cross the street. But by now Petunia had learnt to hold her tongue. There was no point arguing when he was in a mood like this one. Unfortunately, her silence did not protect her this time, Vernon raised a meaty fist and struck. Petunia fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Let that be a lesson to you. You do as your told, an' don't argue. You'll be staying here, while I go to the pub. I don't know when I'll be home." He prodded her body with his foot. "Hmm," he grunted in satisfaction, "maybe that'll make you listen."

A minute later, the wheels of his car squealed as he took off up the road.

Petunia did not regain consciousness for a full ten minutes. When she did, she could hear a knocking. It resonated with the pain in her head.

"Anyone home?" a cheery voice called.

"Coming," she called out as she tried to stand feeling dizzy and ill. In the end she had to pull herself up on the table to be able to get to her feet. Strangely there was the evidence of a half-eaten meal on the table. When had Vernon come home?

"Hello?" the voice called again.

"Coming," she called out again, managing a stronger voice this time.

She leaned against the wall in order to remain upright, knocking one of the pictures off the wall by accident it fell to the floor with a crash. Eventually she opened the door.

"Special delivery…" the young man paused taking in her dishevelled look, the large purpling bruise, the blood dripping from her nose and the nearly swollen shut eye. "Ma'am are you alright?"

Petunia swayed, blinking at the boy owlishly.

"Ma'am I think I should call you an ambulance."

"M'fine," she murmured, trying hard to focus.

He slipped an arm around her waist as she swayed, dangerously close to the point of falling, "Let me just get you back in side Ma'am." He carefully walked her up the hall, then seeing a room with a couch in it guided her over to it and sat her down. "You just sit there Ma'am."

The young man bustled off to find the phone. Petunia felt vaguely worried about what Vernon would think when he got home and there was a strange young man in the house, but a stronger wave of dizziness had her lying down with a groan.

"Ma'am. I called the ambulance, they won't be long, and I hope you don't mind but I called my boss to let me know why I'll be late. Are you alright Ma'am?"

Petunia tried to tell him that she was fine and that he should not stay, but all she managed was a pitiful groan. Her eyes were getting heavier by the moment even with the roiling of her stomach.

"Try not to go to sleep Ma'am the lady from the ambulance said to stay awake. I suppose I should tell you why I am here that might help to give you something to focus on," the poor boy babbled. "I have a registered letter for you. Don't worry it's not that fancy, it just means that you have to sign for it because it is important. I don't know if I should give it to you now, because you look like you might not remember, but I can't take it back with me. Do you think you could sign for it then, if you tell me where I can put it that it is safe, and you will find it later, then I can put it away for you?"

Petunia managed to make a noise which sounded vaguely affirmative and a pen was thrust into her hand.

"Here I'll hold my board up you just sign."

She tried her best to sign. Then pointed the boy towards the kitchen and slurred "Bag."

Fortunately, he understood, and disappeared from her line of sight. When he reappeared, he was holding her handbag out in front of him as if it were a snake poised to strike.

"My Mum says, that you should never go into a lady's handbag! But I'm not going into it, I'm just gonna slide this in. You watch and make sure."

He did so, and hastily put the bag next to her. It seemed like an hour later, but was probably only minutes, that an ambulance could be heard, making its way through the nearby streets.

"Here, they come. I'll just go wait by the door. Try and stay awake Mrs Dursley."

Sometime in the following few minutes the ambulance arrived, and they carefully lifted her onto the stretcher. The young postie made sure that the house was locked up, the keys were safely in her bag and the bag in the ambulance before he left. Petunia was unaware of any of this because she had lost her battle with unconsciousness.

It took Dudley three days to learn what had happened. The Deputy Headmaster, Mr Bode, called him out of his English lesson.

"Mr Dursley, there are a couple of gentlemen waiting to speak with you," he said. "Just make your way to the office."

"Yes Sir."

"Not to worry. You're not in trouble," Mr Bode tried to reassure Dudley as they saw the pair of bobby's waiting in the office foyer. "Good Afternoon Officers. This is Dudley Dursley."

"Constables Smith and Jones," the taller of the two introduced. "May we call you Dudley?" he asked in a strangely tight voice.

"Yeah sure."

"Is there somewhere private we could speak with Dudley?" he then asked Mr Bode.

"Certainly, use my office," he showed them the way, and closed the door behind them.

"Dudley," the younger of the two officers, spoke for the first time. "Is your mother Petunia Dursley?"

"Is she alright?" Dudley asked immediately.

"She will recover," Constable Jones confirmed.

"But that means she was hurt!"

"She was and we need to ask you a few questions."

"Can you tell me more about her first. Is she in hospital? When can I see her?"

"Perhaps we should tell you what happened first?" muttered Constable Jones. "Yesterday afternoon, the postie called at your house to deliver a registered letter to your mother. When she answered the door he noticed that she was unsteady on her feet and looked like she had been hit in the face. He called the ambulance and waited with her for them to arrive. She lost consciousness as the ambulance arrived. They then took her to the closest hospital where she was began having difficulties breathing so she was intubated and is currently on a machine to assist her. All the medical staff will tell us at this time is that they expect her to recover. I have no doubt they will tell you more as a member of her immediate family. Because some of the neighbours reported hearing raised voices in the house before your father left for the evening, he has been denied access to your mother at this time and is being held at the local police station."

Constable Smith took over, "Do you feel up to answering a few questions at this time?"

Dudley shrugged, really he would rather be arranging a visit to the hospital to check on his mother, or better yet, not to need to at all, but he knew this was important. He told them how his mother had spoken of Vernon's temper. When they asked if he had ever seen his father hit his mother before. He denied it, but the expression on his face had the policeman question further and he revealed how his father had beaten Harry. How Harry had been forced to live in the cupboard under the stairs, been given little to eat and been forced to do all of the household chores. The officers thanked him and allowed him to leave, giving him a card. So that he could call them if he remembered anything else.

Mr Bode arranged to take him straight to the hospital that day after school and even stayed with him for the walk through the rabbit warren like halls. It was horrible. Petunia was lying on a bed, covered in a crisp white sheet. There was a bag of yellow fluid hanging off one side of the bed connected to a tube that slipped under the sheet. A clear line was attached to the back of her hand, the nurse said it was providing her with fluid. There was another larger tube that went into her mouth…..Dudley felt dizzy.

"It takes some people like that dear," the nurse said kindly. "You just sit on this side, where you can't see all the bits and pieces."

"What's wrong with her?" Dudley asked as he collapsed into the chair.

"Her cheek is broken, there are some cracks in her orbital fossa…oh sorry luv that's the bones around the eye and she has some swelling around her brain. The breaks will heal up well enough. It's the swelling that she is in with us for."

"Is she brea…."

"Yes mostly by herself. The hit caused some swelling, but the brain is enclosed by the skull which limits the space. So unlike if you sprained your ankle where the skin stretches to accommodate the fluid an it swells up, there is nowhere for that fluid to go and the pressure in the cranial cavity increases….… sorry that's in the skull. That squashes the brain. If it doesn't get too bad then the fluid will be reabsorbed or will drain into the spinal fluid."

"What happens if it is bad?" Dudley asked quietly.

"Well, if that happens, we cut a small hole in her skull…"

Dudley went green, and the nurse hurriedly provided him with a bag to vomit in.

"How about we just say, that there are medical procedures to help?" she patted him on should reassuringly.

"Yeah, that sounds ok. I'm sorry," he gestured to the bag he still held.

"Oh that's alright dear. If you're right to stand, just go throw it in that bin over there, the yellow one. I'll get you a glass of water."

"Thank you. I have some mints. Is there somewhere outside I can go and sit for a moment?"

"Sure luv, there is a balcony right outside." She gestured to the doors.

"Thanks." Dudley wandered out onto the balcony and sat for a moment looking out onto the gardens. What was he going to do now? Dudley knew…had always known, that he was not the brightest. Sure he could get by if he worked hard but a genius he was not. Maybe Harry would know what to do? Mr Bode had made Dudley bring his knapsack, with a few snacks and a bottle of water, saying that the food at the hospital cafeteria was not what his coach would want him eating. He was glad for it now and grabbed the bottle so he could rinse his mouth of the acidic taste. Digging around in his bag he pulled out a notebook and a pen. Hopefully an owl would be able to find him here.

As Dudley finished writing there was a hoot from over to his left and there sitting on railing was a snowy owl. "Hedwig?"

She cooed at him.

"Would you take this to Harry? Mum's been hurt and…well if it was Dad that did it, then she won't be able to go back there will she?"

Hedwig, hopped closer, then fluttered up onto his shoulder and cooed again.

"Thanks." He passed her the letter.

"Come in and say goodbye to your mum Dudley, we had better get you back to campus," Mr Bode said, pushing open the glass doors that lead onto the balcony.

"Ok Sir. Um…thanks for bringing me."

"It's no problem. The first visit can be a bit shocking. We'll see if we can't get you back here tomorrow."

"I'd appreciate that," Dudley said as they made their way back inside.

Hedwig swooped through the window into the fifth-year Gryffindor boy's dormitory. Sure that her boy's would know what to do. Spiralling between the beds she landed on her stand and hooted loudly.

"'Arry, shut yer bird up would yeh?" Seamus threw a pillow at the sleeping brunette.

"Wha'?" a drowsy Harry stirred. Hedwig hooted again. "Hey Hedwig, where have you been."

She ruffled her feathers and dropped a folded piece of paper onto her boy's chest.

"Thanks," Harry grumbled, which Hedwig thought was particularly uncalled for so she swatted him around the head with her wing. "Hedwig, not you too?"

"Shut it, Harry!" Dean complained, throwing another pillow in Harry's direction. Ron continued snoring.

"Right, sorry," Harry whispered, and drew the curtains around his bed. Casting a quick Muffliato, before unfolding the paper.

_Harry,_

_I'm writing to ask you for help. I'm not sure if Mum's told you but Dad's been acting a bit crazy. Drinking lots, arguing that sort of thing. Well the police came to school! Harry I've never been so terrified in my life. They came to tell me that someone had belted Mum. She's in hospital, with broken bones on her face and there's something wrong with her head. To be honest I didn't take it all in. There were tubes coming out of her everywhere. I know you can't get away from school but she's in St Peters._

_Harry, I don't know what to do! I had told her that she needed to have Dad talk to a counsellor (they really helped me) but he got angry at her when she suggested it. I tried to convince her to leave him but she wouldn't. She kept saying how she had no income and no skills anymore. _

_I don't even know what I'm asking Harry, just please, help her._

_Dudley._

Harry scrambled around, finally locating the mirror in the dark.

"Sirius," he said. "Please Sirius come to the mirror!"

"Hey Pup," the Lord Black, looked wide awake.

"Haven't you gone to bed yet?" Harry asked.

"Remus and I got caught up reminiscing. He found some old photos. We'll show them to you when you come home tomorrow. What about you, you should be asleep."

"Hedwig came in late, carrying a letter from Dudley," Harry explained hurriedly. "Uncle Vernon has hurt Aunt Petunia. Dudley doesn't know what to do. Is there something we can do?"

"Do you think Dudley would recognise me? I would send Remus, he's better at things in the Muggle world, but he's not fully healed."

"I don't know. What about Seraphina?"

"She's really busy at the moment. In fact I think she is currently in Spain attending the ICW meeting. How about Severus…." Sirius blushed slightly at the slip.

"Professor Snape isn't going to have time to leave the school and head out to Surrey to check on Aunt Petunia, Padfoot."

"All right, I'll call Addison and see if he is free to come with me. I believe he has a bit of an interest in Muggle medicine."

"What about Samuel McMillan?"

"Do you think it is that bad? It wasn't just an accident?"

Harry shook his head. "In her letters, Aunt Petunia said that he has been really angry and the last one I got from her said that he had found one of my letters. He lit it on fire and threw the burning paper at her."

"Right, I'll add McMillan to the list. Though he might recommend someone else, family law isn't really a thing for wizards but he might know someone on the muggle side. I'll explain it to you another time, when you don't have to get up for classes. Oh, which hospital is she at?"

"St Peters in Surrey. Will you still be there to pick us up?"

"Yeah. I'll try and get this done in the morning. Right kiddo, off to sleep," Sirius paused looking at Harry's face. "What is it Pup?"

"I feel…I don't know. But it isn't nice and I feel guilty for feeling it too."

"What do you feel?"

"I feel like almost happy but not that maybe she'll know how I felt for all those years, when I was thrown in the cupboard with a bruised face or arm or leg. Not that I want her to be hurt and in hospital. I'm a bad person," he whispered.

"No Pup, no your not. I think it is perfectly understandable. I know you were getting on better with her this summer….."

"Only after Perce came."

Sirius nodded, "After Percival came, but you still had fourteen years of them treating you badly, and it must feel like they got off scott free. Wanting them to know how you felt and understand what you went through, is not a bad thing. If it was I would be a horrible person too. I felt glad when I got back to this house and found out mother had died." Seeing that Harry was about to protest he continued on, "It's not like you want to hurt her, or even for her to be hurt. If you are worried about it I can bring it up with Addison and maybe you can talk to him about it?"

"Yeah. I think that would make me feel better."

"Good, now do you meditation and try and get some sleep. Goodnight Pup."

"Night Dad."


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Warning- There is a reference to transgender in this chapter, that part was already written before certain people came out and said certain things. I have left it in as a bit of jab at those people.

She had of course recognised one of the men three men who had walked onto the ward unannounced. They stepped up to her bedside, pulled the curtains closed and one had drawn a wand to cast a spell that made the sound from the other side of the surrounding curtain cease. Years ago, he had been the attractive but arrogant friend of Lily's husband and she had hated him in equal proportions to the crush that she had on him. The next time she had seen him, had been on his wanted posters, and the years had twisted things so that she felt that it was justice that one who had betrayed her sister had fallen so far. But now he appeared at her bedside, like a knight in shining armour, with a lawyer and a healer in tow.

The ensuing conversation was eye opening and once again she was baffled by the goodness that was her nephew. They had spoken with the police and the lawyer, Samuel McMillan, had prepared divorce papers for her. The healer, Addison Baldric (Petunia wondered why the wizarding world could not stick to commonplace names), after a quick flick through her chart, had offered potions that could help her heal quicker. And Sirius, at the behest of Harry, had set her up a little townhouse, not far from Dudley's school, and would ensure that his fees were kept up. Apparently, Harry thought that his cousin needed the consistency and that the relationship Dudley had built up with his coach and teachers should not be disturbed if at all possible.

It was so confusing…..and depressing. All those years ago, despite having fought just the day before, Lily had snuck into the room where Petunia was preparing for her wedding. Lily had begged Petunia not to go through with it. With eyes as red as her hair Lily had wept as tried to convince Petunia that she'd had a horrible feeling about Vernon. Petunia of course had called her sister jealous and had her bridesmaids push Lily out of the room. Petunia should have known. There had been so many times when they were little where Lily would get a feeling, and those feelings had always turned out to be right. It had taken years to be proven, but it turned out that Lily was right again.

Petunia was conflicted there was a part of her that did not want to let go. It had not been a bad life. Petunia ran a finger over the paperwork McMillan had bought with him as she considered things. It was proper paper too, not that stiff stuff the wizards used. She did not want to admit that she had been wrong. There had been good times. Part of her wanted to hold on and see if things got better. Somewhere deep-down Petunia knew that it would not get any better, not now that Harry was no longer there to take the brunt of Vernon's temper, and Dudley was not there to set a good example for. She ignored the thought, pushing it roughly to the side. Perhaps now that it was just the two of them, things would be like there were when they were newly married? Perhaps once his probation was over things would improve? Maybe she could convince him to go to anger management classes?

Sirius had stopped, frozen when she had voiced that thought. Immediately offering to find someone for Vernon to talk to. Petunia could tell that he was hesitant, even as he said the words.

"Don't you think that nearly twenty years, are worth fighting for?" she demanded more rudely then she had intended.

Sirius starred over with his silver eyes. Releasing a big sigh, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "First of all, Lily loved you more than anything." He swallowed awkwardly and dropped his eyes. "I remember just after the holidays when you became engaged, I'd had a fight with the guys and had gone to the Astronomy tower to just….look at the stars I suppose but when I got there it was already occupied. Lily was sitting with her legs hanging over the edge. I wondered if I should just leave her be, but she knew I was there. 'There's room for two you know,' she said. What could I do after that but join her? Once I sat down, I caught a glimpse of her face and realised that she had been crying. She told me how she had been weeding the front garden so that the house was all done up nice for your engagement party, but when you came home, you drove the car over the gutter, and she had to apparate to avoid being hurt."

Petunia looked down, blinking away guilty tears. Truthfully, she had just thought it would be a laugh to give Lily a fright. At least until Lily had disappeared, Petunia had not realised how close she had come to driving over her sibling.

"She was upset about that, don't get me wrong but she was more upset over the fact that after the dinner, Vernon pinned her in the hall outside the bathroom. He pressed her up against the wall and threatened her, going so far as to spit in her face. She still had bruises on her arms. But you know what? It wasn't that he threatened her that she found distressing, it was the fact that you were going to marry him, and did not seem to have a clue what sort of man he was. We spent hours trying to come up with a way for her to let you know." He sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head towards the ceiling for a moment, "The point is that while you may have been blind to it, he has been that way the entire time you have been together. If you have any doubts, you need to consider what type of person," hard silver eyes were turned on her once more, "would lock a fifteen month old in a cupboard and call it his room, feeding him only scraps and leftovers, not allowing him to do homework and giving him all the house hold chores. That is not normal in the Wizarding world Petunia, and I highly doubt it is normal in the Non-magical world either."

She gasped a breath refusing to look at any of the men, even though she could feel their disapproval. "I..I'm sorry," she finally whispered.

"That's lovely," Sirius said sarcastically. "I'm not the one you should apologise to. I'm the vindictive sort, if it had been up to me you would have to get yourself out of this mess. But Harry, well let's just say that Harry makes us all want to be better people."

"I can't move out of that house," Petunia said softly.

"Why ever not?" Sam McMillan asked.

"It was in the letter that was with him when he arrived. He has to live in a house where his mother's blood dwells and call it home, in order to provide us with protection from the magical world. He….Harry said that the man who killed Lily was back. What if they come after us and hurt Dudley?"

And there is was, the reason for everything. She was afraid.

"Ha," Sirius barked out a laugh. "Sure, living in the house counts for something, but I doubt Harry has ever thought of your house as a home, certainly not after he started going to Hogwarts. It has been his prison more than anything. Not only that but the moment that you left the limits of the yard you would no longer be protected. Regardless of anything else, Harry won't be returning to live with you."

"But how can I protect my son?" if it could have been possible Petunia would have become paler.

Sirius reached a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small clear sphere about an inch in diameter, "Should anyone come to the unit, break this. It will send an alarm to the matching one that I have, and I will come. I have already put up ward around the unit, to…..encourage people with bad intentions t stay away. I'll get something for Dudley to keep with him as well."

"Oh," she said in surprise as she took the ball from him, "Thank you."

"Like I said, thank your nephew. Now we need to go, I am sure that Mr McMillan and Mr Baldric have other appointments today…." Sirius stood.

"Please Mr Baldric….the potions? Do you think they would work?"

"Certainly Mrs Dursley. It has been well documented for hundreds of years that the potions work on squibs."

"Then I should like to try them please."

He smiled at her kindly and pulled three vials out of a pocket, "Be warned they taste foul," he said as he handed them over. "Take one in the morning for the next three days. They won't interfere with any of the muggle medicines you are currently on," he added as an afterthought.

"I thank you."

There was a knock at the door, followed by Dudley peek into the room, "Mum?"

"Oh," his forehead scrunched in thought, "Mr Black?"

"Well done Dudley. I am Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather, this is Addison Baldric Harry's healer and Samuel McMillan his lawyer."

"Thank you for coming to see mum," he said to the three. "Can you tell Harry thank you? I will send him a letter, but I know sometimes it takes a while for him to receive them and I know Hedwig was here just yesterday. It's a long way to Scotland!"

"Not to worry, Magical owls have a few advantages their non-magical counterparts do not. However, I will pass the message on. It was a pleasure to meet you Dudley." Sirius nodded goodbye and followed Addison and Sam from the room. As they walked away up the hall, they could hear son entreating mother to leave her husband.

They had all packed their bags the evening before, allowing the group of Gryffindors to congregate in the Great Hall for Breakfast while many of their peers (the ones catching the express home for the holidays at least) were still running around their dormitories trying to find all the things they wanted to take home. Hedwig swooped overhead. Truthfully, she was a bit tired, with all the letters being sent recently it seemed that she had been flying all over Britain non-stop for weeks. Still she had seen the red metal dragon that would huff its smoke and carry her boys back to London waiting at Hogsmeade this morning. That meant that she would get a bit of a rest. Even if there were still letters to go to Surrey, it was much closer to London than Scotland. She let out a hoot that got her first boys' attention as she released the paper that she was carrying and flew out the window, not stopping to steal her usual treat of bacon. She might just take a rest before flying back to London.

The paper fell, turning end over end, before finally landing in Seamus' porridge. "Barmey bird!" he complained, fishing it out and passing it to Harry, who siphoned the back page clean.

"Sorry Seamus, I think she's a bit tired." Harry helpfully passed Seamus a new plate of porridge, and the honey pot. "Huh!"

Harry had unrolled the paper and there on the front page was a picture of Cornelius Fudge, looking around sadly, his bowler hat clasped in front of his body like a shield.

_Fudge's Folly _the title read.

_Today following the trial of Delores Jane Umbridge, see article page 2, Mr Fudge was called to defend his actions regarding her case, including his possible involvement in the acquisition and possession of several class A restricted articles and their use on several children. While testimony under veritaserum revealed a lack of knowledge of the aforementioned possession and use of the item, Mr Fudge disclosed that he had encouraged Ms Umbridge to 'do whatever she deemed appropriate' in relation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, particularly with regards to the punishments administered during detentions. Because of his lack of knowledge of her possession and the use of the articles he was declared not guilty, by simple majority of being an accomplice to their acquisition and use. However immediately following the end of the trial. Dowager Lady August Longbottom moved a motion of no-confidence in the Minister citing his actions in actively garnering Wizengamot approval for Ms Umbridge's use of the items through the Educational Decrees that have been enacted since the First of September. By introducing the decrees, he facilitated her ability to use them on the students. Dowager Lady Longbottom argued that as her immediate superior he should have been more aware of her actions. The motion was seconded by Lords Fawley and Bell. In a near unanimous decision Mr Fudge has been stood down as Minister, with no pension and an enquiry will commence into his actions while in office…_

Harry stopped reading and looked at the other Gryffindors, "Well…"

"Has that happened before?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"A Minister being stood down?"

"Yeah loads," it was Angelina Johnson who answered, she sat a little further up the table and had been watching the group. "The first one I remember was Damocles Rowle in 1726, I can't remember what it was for, but it was something about muggles."

"Yeah there was also Priscilla Dupont 1858, for Muggle baiting. More recently there was Hector Fawley in 1939, because he did not take Grindlewald as a serious threat," Fay Dunbar added.

"Huh! I wish Binn's would cover some of that stuff it's way more interesting then Goblin wars," Dean complained.

"He does," Katie Bell laughed, "It's just that by the time he reaches it nearly everyone is asleep."

They all had a chuckle about that.

"Do you know what I just heard?" Hermione said as she came and sat next to Neville practically pushing Lavender Brown off the seat. Everyone quickly shovelled food into their mouths. "Well, do you?" she continued indignantly before glancing around at the chewing faces. Huffing she continued, "I just over heard Susan Bones and Terry Boot talking about an extra credit assignment they have for Transfiguration!"

No one paid her the least bit of attention, but she continued on anyway. "I'm going to go and ask Professor McGonagall if I can do it too. After all my marks are the best in the class."

Harry absolutely refused to make eye contact with the girl, silently cursing the other two for not being more careful.

"But Hermione, it's holidays," Ron could not help saying. "I'm sure McGonagall has already set the assignment for those she wanted to offer it to."

"Perhaps she thought you were too busy with Prefect's duties," Parvati offered.

"Well, I'm not going home so I have plenty of time to do it. I'm going to go and see her," the girl said dismissively.

"Suit yourself," Parvati said, standing up. "Come on, if we don't go now, we are going to be late."

The others all stood.

"Where are you going?" Hermione glanced around as the group rose from their seats.

"If we want to sit together on the Express, we need to get down there early Hermione," Dean pointed out.

"But why are you getting up Harry? Surely you aren't going to the Dursley's for Easter?" she crossed her arms across her chest, frowning at him. Harry leaving for the holidays was not part of the plan!

"Aren't I?" he said and turned his back on her.

"Harry!" she called out. "Harry James Potter!" she yelled louder when he ignored her.

She quickly grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and chased after them. Stubling as her bag caught on her foot. Hermione reached the castle doors just in time to see the carriage the group climbed into set off towards the station.

"Argh!" she stamped her foot.

Professor Dumbledore had promised that Harry would be staying at the castle this break, after all there was too much study to be done and she knew that the boy was behind. It was the perfect opportunity for her to show him just how much he relied on her by helping him with his study. Despite his words at the start of the year, she just knew that he was not coping without her. It would take a terrific effort on her behalf to get him up to speed now! Still Professor Dumbledore had been distracted of late, perhaps it had something to do with whatever that Bones women had said to him when she had come to take Professor Umbridge away, so he possibly had just forgotten to tell Hermione the change of plans. With a groan Hermione turned around and headed back into the castle determined to make an appointment to see her Head of House as soon as possible.

Percival cast an extension charm so that the Gryffindor fifth years, could all squeeze into the one carriage. The boys sat closest to the door, playing exploding snap while the girls gossiped near the window. Suddenly the door slid open with a bang revealing the pointed face of Draco Malfoy.

"Finally ditched the Mudblood Potter?" he sneered.

"I never knew you cared Malfoy, and please do not use such terms. Remember my mother was a Muggleborn," Harry said calmly.

"Well we all know how that ended don't we? And things will go just as poorly for you!"

"Mr Malfoy?" Percival arched a brow at the boy. "I believe your mother was a Black was she not?"

"What of it?" Draco looked Percival up and down. "Who are you anyway?"

"Percival Graves, Godson of Seraphina Picquery," a shark's smile was less predatory than Percival's, however Draco failed to notice.

"Ah the Yank!" Draco scoffed turning back to Harry, deeming Percival beneath his notice.

"Malfoy given that Percival knows more spells than the rest of us combined I suggest you listen to him," Harry said softly.

"I just thought it was unwise for Mr Malfoy to instigate a confrontation with the Heir of his mother's house. I believe Lord Black mentioned the other day that he was going through and correcting any discrepancies with regards to the family name. To tidy things up as it were. Imagine the fuss if his mother was disowned because of actions against his Heir?"

Draco flushed a brilliant pink, "He cannot be the Heir! My father said that I am the oldest male of the closest line…"

"Well you aren't the oldest, that would have to be Arthur Weasley wouldn't it?" Percival reminded Malfoy, "and come to think of it he would be closer too. Given that his mother was the sister to the previous Lord Black where as you are only what? A… second cousin?" it sounded like a question, "to the current Lord Black."

"A Weasley the Heir to…"

"An argument could be made for Frank Longbottom as well," Parvati Patil chimed in.

"He's mad so there is no way that….!" Draco said.

Lavender nodded, "He is but that would then make his son the Heir, wouldn't it?"

"That squib!" the blonde scoffed.

There was a pause and the group grinned at him. Draco felt the air move behind him and slowly turned around. Slowly he looked up into the hazel eyes of the Longbottom Heir. Neville had grown significantly over the year and Draco had to look up a lot further than he was expecting.

Arms crossed in front of his chest drawn wand clearly visible. Draco wondered with a start when exactly had Neville become a solid pillar of muscle? Where had the plump and timid boy gone?

Neville said in a voice, that was significantly deeper than it used to be, "Got something to say Malfoy? Because personally I don't think the whiny son of a family that got thrown out of France for acting in poor faith towards magic, should be the one commenting on other people's heritage." He stepped into Draco's personal space, forcing the boy to have to tilt his head even further to maintain eye contact. "I think you should leave, now don't you? It seems your bookends, might have been sampling some of the twin's products. I suggest that you go set them to rights, before they injure themselves." He moved sideways, leaving an opening to the door, through which Draco bolted.

"Wow Neville!" Parvati said fanning her face as if she was flustered.

"Five years that's all it took for you to show your inner Lion!" Ron chuckled.

"Oi!" Harry protested, prodding Ron in the arm. "We knew he was a Lion back in first year, when he threatened to fight you, me and Hermione all at the same time."

Neville was blushing fiercely, "Alright you can stop it now."

The group subsided gradually, though a little later Harry leaned over to his friend squeezed his forearm and whispered, "I think they'd be proud."

Neville gave a small smile in return.

Lifting a hand, she knocked on the door, "Come in," there was the ever so slight residual Scottish burr.

Pushing the door open Hermione peered into the room, "Professor McGonagall."

The Professor was sitting at her desk, parchment work spread out covering the surface. Noting the gaze of the girl who had entered her office, Minerva waved her wand and the parchment formed neat piles.

"How may I help you Miss Granger?" she peered over her glasses, certain she knew what this visit would be about. She had hoped that Harry could have kept it a secret for a while longer at least. Still she supposed, Lily would never have been able to keep such a thing secret from one of her friends either, Marlene would have been knocking on the door asking to be included the next morning. James would have spilled the secret just because he had been told not to.

"I overheard an interesting conversation to day Professor, between Susan Bones and Terry Boot."

Well that was interesting, Minerva thought, internally apologised to Harry. She hummed which was all the encouragement Hermione needed to continue.

"They were talking about an extra credit assignment that they had been given in Transfiguration. I was wondering if I could do it too?" Hermione bounced a little on the balls of her feet.

"No," Minerva said flatly, causing the girl to cease fidgeting and move to sit in the chair opposite Minerva's desk. While it seemed a reasonable cover story, she made a note to talk to Miss Bones and Mr Boot, about being more careful.

"But Professor why?" Hermione whined her protest, wiggling in her seat in angst. "I get the best results in class, why won't you let me do it too?"

"Whatever made you think you were my best student?" McGonagall asked slightly confused, certain that she had never implied such a thing.

"When my results came out at the end of last year I was at the top of the list, as I have been every year. And Professor Dumbledore said I was the brightest witch of the age. As did Professor Lupin in third year."

"I think they might have said the brightest witch of _your_ age, which is not quite the same thing," McGonagall frowned, why would Albus do such a thing and when? "I regretfully must inform you that regardless of where you were at the end of last year, that was some months ago and you are no longer in the same position."

"But that can't be right! I still get Outstandings on all my assignments," Hermione protested.

"Yes, but other people score just as well, and this year has seen a number of students make rapid improvements in their marks. I have noticed before that some students are…late bloomers…we'll call it. They seem to struggle for the first few years then suddenly in fourth or fifth year, things seem to fall into place for them and they improve dramatically."

"But, shouldn't a good consistent performance count?"

"Indeed, it does Miss Granger. We also notice that some students seem to do spectacularly well initially and then all of a sudden, their grades start to fall. Perhaps it is the pressure of the OWLs or perhaps they have burnt themselves out doing too much too soon. Their work becomes inconsistent, they begin to fail to hand in assignments," she said the last with a heavy emphasis. "Do you understand what I am saying Miss Granger?"

"I do, but I don't see what that has to do with me. I have consistently worked hard…"

"Let me speak plainly. You failed to hand in your last assignment to me, Miss Granger! Professor Snape bought me your last potions essay in concern at the poor quality, and you have missed at least two Astronomy and one Herbology class for no reason. I know this, because both Professors have spoken to me. Professors Vector and Babbling have both commented on missing assignments and less care taken in your work as well. I actually had a note to ask you to come and see me to discuss how you are going. I was going to arrange it tomorrow. Perhaps being a Prefect has been a little too much with the workload you have?"

"No! No Professor, I'm a great Prefect. I tutor the others all the time, and all of them come to me for help!"

Minerva frowned, taken the top sheet off her pile of parchment, "I have here a written complaint from the Head Boy that you have missed two Prefect meetings and have not attended rounds on a number of occasions, leaving your partner to walk the halls alone."

"But…they didn't need me, and I had an assignment to do," Hermione tried to defend her actions.

"Miss Granger, if you have overdue homework, you may negotiate with another prefect for them to cover your rounds for you, preferably by swapping with one of theirs. And rounds must always be taken in pairs, if for no other reason than if someone is found injured r there is trouble of some kind, then one can stay at the site while the other finds a member of staff. Besides that it is a safety issue. Both these things were explained in the Prefects Handbook and at the Prefects meeting on the Hogwarts Express."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with not letting me do the extra credit work!" Hermione complained.

"Let me be even clearer then Miss Granger. No, you will not be offered the extra credit assignments, because you are currently failing to meet all the requirements to do so. Those being that your attendance and work is exemplary, in all of your classes. For example, missing classes for any reason other than being admitted to the hospital wing and the failure to hand in an assignment on time are considered a failure to meet these criteria. Next you must be meeting the basic requirements of all of the positions that you hold. For example, if you were Quidditch Captain," she held up her hand as Hermione opened her mouth. "It is an example Miss Granger, then you would need to be holding the trials, practices, arranging uniforms for the new players, mediating any player complaints or arguments, failure to attend Prefect meetings is a failure to meet the requirements for being a Prefect. Then your behaviour around the school must also be beyond reproach, no starting arguments, no hitting other people. Miss Granger, I have seen you in the Great Hall yelling at the second years and hitting Mr Potter! Finally, you must demonstrate that you will be able to cope with the additional work. Now can you see why you have not been offered the work."

"Yes Professor," Hermione said grudgingly, clearly not believing that she had failed to meet any of them nor taking on board any of her Head of house's comments.

"Good," McGonagall granted her a tight smile. "Now, how are you coping with this year, Miss Granger? As we were discussing, several of your Professors have some concerns."

"Everything is fine, Professor," Hermione replied stiffly.

"I was worried, after you were so badly affected by that tome, earlier in the year. Have you got any residual concerns?"

"No."

"No desire to find that book again, or to cast the spells in it?"

"No," Hermione managed to say firmly, despite the mere mention of the book making her fingers itch to grasp her wand. She was only able to quieten the urge as there was another text, waiting for her, even slicker and more seductive then the last, hidden in a locked and cursed box in her trunk.

"That is good," McGonagall said, accepting her response. "Well perhaps it has just been a lack of focus, with the extra responsibilities. Time Management is the key, perhaps one of those Homework planners would help?"

"Yes Professor."

"Well if there is nothing else, I do have a lot of parchment work to be doing," Professor McGonagall dismissed her.

"Thank you," said Hermione, and left completely dissatisfied with the meeting. One thing was for sure, she was not giving up. If her Head of House would not help, then she would take the matter to the Headmaster.

"Delores Umbridge," the voice was silky, cold but full of power. It was the same one that had come and arranged her rescue her from her imprisonment. The man had not attended himself of course, but the masked figure who had released her and bought her here had pointed the man out as they walked passed a room where he was holding a meeting.

One thing was sure Amelia Bones and the rest of the useless twits would pay for imprisoning Delores Umbridge. Didn't they know who she was? They were just brainless witches and wizards who were led around by Albus Dumbledore. In fact, stopping her was practically treason. What she was doing was for the betterment of witches and wizards everywhere. Well the ones in Britain at least, after all they were the only ones that counted. It seemed that the Dark Lord agreed. she had always admired him. His noseless face was a bit off putting, though she would only admit that in the quiet space of her mind, but otherwise his physique was strikingly fierce.

"Umbridge," the voice called again, and there was a hiss of warning in his voice.

"Yes, My Lord," she simpered.

"Tell me about the boy," he rasped.

"Harry Potter? He is nothing."

"Does he appear disturbed? Does he complain of visions or dreams? Disturbed sleep?"

She thought carefully, "No My Lord, he seemed well rested. There was no talk of visions."

He hissed angrily, before calming. He was not going to tell this minion that he had been sending the boy ever increasing visions in order to slowly integrate into his subconscious. All that time had been wasted! Had Severus deceived him when he had said that he was not teaching the boy Occlumency? If he discovered that he had been betrayed Severus would suffer a most painful death.

"I have a task for you."

"Anything My Lord," the breathy tone her voice took, would have had even Bellatrix Black cringing.

"You need to find a way to get Harry Potter into the Department of Mysteries. There is something there that I need him to get for me."

"I….." her mind whirred as she thought through various possibilities. "What is it?"

"There is a prophecy about the boy. Once he has it, my loyal will take it from him and bring it to me. I plan to use it against him."

She snorted, "A prophecy?"

Red eyes glared at her menacingly, "Do not mock what you do not understand."

"But he is too weak to be the focus…."

"Your opinion was not asked for! You need to concern yourself only with how you will achieve this?" the 'S' was a hiss.

"Y…yes My Lord."

"Good, you may go. Ask Lucius if you need anything. And Umbridge…" he waited for her to pause in her escape, "next time you even think about questioning me, you will be punished."

Delores gave a little cough, "Yes My Lord. Thank you, for your leniency, My Lord," she curtseyed and hurriedly left the room discarding one plan after another.

"Sirius!" Harry called as he pounced on the older man, strong arms wrapped around him in a hug.

"Harry, it's good to see you." Standing up and releasing his son, Sirius turned to acknowledge the other children standing there, "Percival, Neville and who might the rest of you be."

The group had stuck together as they made their way across the platform.

"Right, um, Da…Sirius," Harry began a little awkwardly. He knew that Sirius had accepted him as his son but calling him Dad in public was just a little too far as yet and he did not want anyone at the Prophet getting wind of it. "This is Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar and Lavender Brown, the fifth year Gryffindor girls. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, Gryffindor boys, and you already know, Ron, Neville and Percival. Guys this is my fa….Godfather Sirius Black."

"Hello everyone. Neville, I think I saw your Grandmother up the other end of the platform chatting to Catherine Greengrass." Neville nodded his thanks, quickly said goodbye and headed through the crowd. "Now…" he was interrupted as Padma came up to lead Parvati to their parents. "Right, so Seamus and Dean will your parents be meeting you on the platform?"

"No Sir," Dean replied.

"Please don't call me Sir, just Sirius will do."

"Sorry Si…Sirius. Seamus is staying with me. Mum and Dad will pick us up on the other side. See ya on the train back guys." The pair waved and ran off to queue at the exit to the Muggle side.

"And Ronald?" Sirius looked around for Molly.

"Ah, looks like Dad has sent Bill," Ron nodded up the platform to where Ron's oldest brother was making his way towards them, Ginny in tow.

"Bill," Sirius nodded by way of greeting.

"Lord Black," Bill returned.

"Given the lack of Weasley's at my current abode, I assume that you have attended to the wards at the Burrow?"

"Yes. Thank you for allowing the family to stay with you while I was sorting it out. I'm surprised mum didn't let you know. I had to pull the old ones down and start from scratch. I've replaced them with ones I came across in Egypt, over a thousand years old, and work really well when layered. Then Poppy Pomfrey let me look at an array for a set of detection wards that had been placed on the hospital wing, I managed to modify them and use them at the Burrow too. I believe I have you to thank for the original Harry."

"Madame Pomfrey just said that someone had removed the wards that let her know when someone was in the hospital wing. So, I made it my runes project. Professor Babbling has looked over it and is using it as the evidence for me to test into fifth year runes."

"Well I'm very grateful. Now should anyone break through the walls at the Burrow, Dad, Charlie and I will be notified. Ron where's your trunk?"

Ron tapped his pocket.

"Oh, well that's good then. See you lot later. Grab an arm you pair," and with that last farewell Bill disapparated.

"Right you two, ready to go?"

"Sure, Sirius but how are we getting home?"

"I actually thought we could walk. There's no rush today, it's a lovely evening, and we pass by a really good pizzeria, that I happen to know Mooney loves."

A small note had been slipped to her that morning, advising that she could attend for the requested meeting at any time. Today's password was 'Droobles Best'. Using it she found herself at the door to the Headmaster's towers straight after breakfast. She knocked on the door and as was usual a voice called her into the room.

The Potions Master was standing in front of the desk his back to the door, but he turned as he heard it open, "Do you need a witn…." he began to offer.

"That's alright Sir," Hermione replied dismissively. She did not want the potions professor to stay. He would surely encourage the Headmaster to turn her down just because he did not like her. Which was obvious as he had given her an Acceptable on her last assignment, when it was clearly should have been an Outstanding.

"It might be alright with you; however, it does not satisfy the needs of proprietary. I shall send your Head of House to join you," he said firmly turning away from the Headmaster, and making his way past the girl.

"Well as our time is limited, I will begin," the old man said frowning at the departing figure of the potions master. "It seems that Harry has left the school."

"Yes Sir, he looked far too happy to be going to the Dursley's and Percival went with him so I assume he has gone to Grimmauld place."

One of the portraits frowned.

"Ah yes, that does make more sense. I had wondered. Obviously, this disrupts our plans, but they can pushed back until the start of the new term."

"Yes Sir."

"Now how have you gone with that last book?"

"Oh, it is fascinating," she gushed.

He could tell by the look on her face that she was hooked, the enraptured expression, the quickening of her breath.

"Good, that is good. Now Miss Granger….Hermione," he said seriously. "There comes a time when harsh decisions need to be made, and the discerning wizard or in your case witch, prepares for those times." He paused to look over his half-moon spectacles, with twinkling eyes. "To do such, no matter how abhorrent in might be, some witches and wizards must step out of the theoretical study of the Dark Arts and progress to its practice. In order to better understand it so that they can defend against it. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. This was obviously the reason that McGonagall would not give her the extra credit assignment. The Transfiguration teacher already knew that Hermione would be taking on additional lessons with the Headmaster.

"These are dangerous times, you are the brightest witch of your age, and people will look to you to lead as you have been leading the Boy-Who-Lived," he said it with great gravitas. "You will need to know more, understand spells more deeply and be able to do more than others. It is a very great responsibility," he said solemnly. "Return tomorrow and we will begin. Now….."

The door to the office opened, "Albus? Severus said that Miss Granger had a meeting with you?"

"Ah, Professor McGonagall, sherbet lemon?"

"No. Albus I have just finished breakfast!"

"It is never too early to indulge one's sweet tooth," he chuckled merrily. "Now I was just saying to Miss Granger that I am afraid that we cannot extend a place to her on the extra Transfiguration assignment as she has enough responsibilities to be getting on with. Don't you agree?"

Minerva McGonagall was stunned. She had entered the room ready to do battle and defend her decision, "R…right you are Albus."

"Good." Albus Dumbledore hoped that his student would pick up the lesson. It could be beneficial to allow your opponent to have apparent victories. If nothing else it kept them off balance, and as such they would be too busy to look for where the real trouble was. "Off you go then Miss Granger," he dismissed her.

"Thank you for your time Professor," she smiled and left the room happily.

Severus Snape was perturbed as he left the Headmaster's office. Why on earth was the Headmaster meeting with Hermione Granger? Something about her behaviour had jarred against all the senses that he had developed over his years of spying. Something was very, very wrong. Having delivered the message to Minerva he headed to his rooms, there was a lot of work to get done.

"Grimmauld place," Severus called out as he stuck his head in the flames.

"Oh Professor!" Harry nearly dropped the plate of biscuits he was preparing. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes! Tell the mutt to let me through!"

"Oh, sorry Severus," Sirius apologised, moving to kneel in front of the fire. "I set a password up last week."

"Well mutt, what is it?" the dour man hissed impatiently.

"Asphodel."

There was a pause. "Fine. Now get out of the way, I'm coming through," he warned.

It was not quite enough time however and Sirius was still sitting on his knees before the fireplace when Severus stepped out. His silver eyes followed the lines of the man.

"What would my teenage self say if he could see you now," his deep voice murmured as black eyes met the silver ones, a lopsided quirk twisting his lips.

"I think he would say, innocent children are present," Harry chirped brightly from where he was now sitting at the table. "Mooney made hot chocolate and it is the best. Even you can't say no Professor."

"You're only say that because you never had a hot chocolate before," Percival murmured, pulling out a seat.

"Yes, I did, at Christmas," Harry reminded his boyfriend.

"But that was also made by Remus. His is the only hot chocolate you've ever tasted, so my point stands."

"Your mother," the velvet tone of the Potions master interrupted them, "introduced me to the wonders of hot chocolate. She even taught me how to make it, she said it had to be made the muggle way because it made it taste better. Perhaps one day I will show you how it is done and then you can judge which way is better."

"Really? I'd really like that Professor," Harry grinned.

"I find that it might be acceptable, when we are not at Hogwarts that you might refer to me by my given name if you so wish," the professor sat down opposite the boys and a smirking Remus placed a warmed cup of frothy brown liquid in front of Severus.

"I can only claim to have learnt to make hot chocolate from your Grandmother, Harry. I do confess that it is made the magical way," the werewolf smiled as he placed the next mug in front of the boy. "But it will have to do for now."

"Thank you, Mooney," Harry took a sip leaving a foamy moustache behind, drawing a smile from Percival and a laugh from Sirius.

"What?"

"You seem to have a little something on your face Mr Po….Harry," Severus said. "About there." He mimed to give an indication. A quick wipe on the back of a sleeve and the mess was gone.

"Now Severus, not that we don't appreciate your company but why are you here?"

"My weekly meeting with the Headmaster this morning was interrupted by Miss Granger. I believe that she was there to complain about not being included in the group who are doing the extension work. It was a wise decision to keep your involvement in that project a secret."

"Pup?! Extension work?" Sirius said with a smile.

Harry blushed and locked his eyes on the table, "I might have to get you to help me with my Transfiguration though."

"Of course, what is? Has she started you on conjuring?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Animagi," Harry whispered, cheeks a bright red.

"She wha….." Sirius gaped like a fish.

"Yeah. We've been given a book to read. Percival already knows how, so he is going to help us."

"Wow Pup. I'm impressed and I just know that Lily and James would be so proud of you."

Severus was frowning, "I feel that…"

Silver eyes flicked towards the Potions Master, "Exactly, I am sure that Severus was going to say that you need a firm grounding in the theory before you take any steps towards trying the transformation. There is a potion to make as part of it, and you will not under any circumstance brew it without supervision. Which," here he glanced at Severus again, "will be either Severus or myself as there are several steps in the process that can be quite….volatile."

"But you and…."

"I know Harry. We were reckless and foolish, and that might have been how the explosion in the library occurred, do not ask why we were brewing the library. I do not want to see you hurt or on the wrong end of Madam Pince's wand, the woman knows an alarming number of hexes and holds a grudge. While Percival can help you learn the theory he is not of age and is not someone who should be supervising either the potion making or the transformation."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "You're a hypocrite you know," he accused sullenly, causing Percival to chuckle.

"I know," Sirius admitted smiling softly. "I made a lot of mistakes when I was your age, and now I know better. And I am trying to teach you to have at least a modicum of self-preservation."

"He is right to do so, you have showed very little of it so far," Severus agreed. "Mr…Harry, when you return to school, you Percival and the others will be invited to attend a class to brew the potion. To avoid suspicion it will be under the guise of remedial potions."

"That won't work for Blaise though, the other Slytherins already know he's good at potions," Percival pointed out.

"Indeed. I had intended to give him detentions where he will help me with the remedial class. We will use the same excuse to hide our next excursion into the Chamber, though that will have to wait until after your exams."

Harry yawned and rubbed a hand across his eyes.

"Right kiddo, time for bed."

"But Sirius…."

"Go on brat. If you miss out on anything, I'll catch you up in the morning."

"Fine."

The two boys said their goodnights and made their way up to bed. Remus levitated their cups to the kitchen and set them on the counter. A second later Kreacher popped in and spelled them into the sink to begin washing.

"For someone who has allegedly died, you look surprisingly well, Wolf," Severus commented drily.

"Don't let his healthy looks deceive you," Sirius said. "He very nearly made that allegedly a literally. "

"I'm getting much better," added Remus.

"Do you mind me asking what happened? I only have Albus' words."

Remus told the story of his trek through the countryside, of meeting with the tribes, and deciding to continue to see if there were any outliers from Fenrir's pack who could be swayed. Then the half-overheard conversation between the so familiar voice and the man who owned the steading. He stumbled over the words to describe his capture and subsequent torture at the hands of Fenrir.

"I wish I knew, who it was that told them I was coming."

Severus and Sirius shared a glance.

"I believe it must have been Dumbledore, though I cannot think why he would do so," Sirius said.

"Yes, it is time we all faced that he is not as good as we once believed," Severus agreed.

"Why do you think it that it was him?" Remus asked.

"I was with Harry, when he was called to a meeting with Albus. During the meeting he informed Harry that you had been killed. It was not long after Percival had been injured. Sirius had only raised the issue of your whereabouts at the previous Order meeting."

"Still he might have…"

"First of all, wolf, you are sitting right in front of me. Second, how would he have known?"

Remus shook his head, "I just don't…."

"No one likes to believe that their childhood hero is in anyway imperfect," Sirius said conciliatorily.

"No, its not just that. I knew that voice, perhaps you are right. I think I'll follow the kid's example. There is a whole world of research I need to start in the morning. Goodnight." Dejectedly he made his way out of the room.

"Another drink Severus?" Sirius asked moving into the kitchen.

"Please. Tea if that is alright."

"Of course," Sirius tapped the kettle with his wand to start it heating.

"It seems to me that there is more to this visit then telling us about Hermione's meeting with Albus," Sirius pried as he scooped tealeaves into the pot. He leant against the counter to wait for the kettle to boil.

"Something is not right. It…..seeing Miss Granger in the office, nags something in the back of my head. I can't quite figure out what bothers me about it. As ridiculous as the notion is, I find that being in this house allows me to think sometimes."

"Well…feel free, the floo is always open," Sirius said with a shrug. Turning as the kettle started to whistle a merry tune. He poured the water into the pot and levitating two cups to follow him to the table, rejoined Severus.

"When did you ward the floo?" Severus asked curiously.

"The moment I realised that Molly had moved out and was not coming back. If I had realised that she was waiting for the wards to be finished on the Burrow, I would have headed round there and cast them myself, so they did not have to wait for Bill to come back from Egypt."

"I rather think you would have upset the cauldron if you had done so."

"Hmm," Sirius nodded in agreement. "I snuck around to the Burrow," he confessed. "Just for Harry's peace of mind and checked them out. Bill's done a really good job. He even managed to slip in some of the really nasty wards that have a backlash. How he got those past Arthur and Molly I don't know."

"I do not believe either of them have ever studied warding," he frowned. "Neither have you."

"Ah yes but we needed to protect the preparation sites for some our pranks back in school. By the time we finished, apart from Worm…Peter, we were all quite proficient. Then as members of the Order Moody took us aside and gave us some, not so legal, training. Not to mention all of the research that Lily did…. sorry," he apologised as a flash of pain flickered across Severus' face. "I know you loved her."

Severus dismissed the apology with a wave, "She was my sister in everything but blood. No matter how many years pass her loss will always bring pain."

"I think Harry appreciated the story you told tonight. I don't have many happy stories to tell of Lily. Just random moments here and there. From what I can gather Petunia never told Harry anything, so I know it meant a lot to him, especially the offer you made."

Clearly uncomfortable Severus excused himself, "Well as touching as that is. I had best return to the school before I am missed. Goodnight Sirius."

"Nite," Sirius sat and watched as Severus disappeared into the flames his task incomplete. He sat for another hour just watching the flames, slowly flicker and die, before he made his way to his rest.

"What's he doing in there?" Harry asked Sirius curiously as he peered through the door into the parlour. There was a werewolf, pacing from one side of the small room to the other. "I wanted to get into the library to grab some books out for my Homework, but I'm kind of afraid to disturb him. Especially when he mutters that way."

"Ah that is Mooney's research mode. I believe your mother influenced him around fifth year when they were prefects. You'll find he has conjured a blackboard and chalk and drawn up some kind of flow diagram."

"Really?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Yep."

"So, what is he researching then? Oh, it's those things of Riddle's isn't it?"

"Yep. Now we are certain that we can get rid of them with the ritual we need to find them all."

"Can I help?"

"In the research phase?" Harry nodded.

"I don't see why not, though Homework first."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

There was a list on the black board, four chairs placed facing it in a half circle.

_Harry- accident?_

_Locket_

_Diary _

_Crown_

_Snake_

"Five seems like an odd number," Harry stated.

"Yeah though it depends if you are counting the one in Harry or not. We also can't forget the soul piece actually in Riddle," Remus said entering lecture mode.

"So do we count it as six then?" Harry asked.

"No, I think you were right that we are safe to assume the one in the scar is accidental so there are five other soul pieces that we know of. Which as you said is odd. Three or seven seems more likely."

"What if he was going to make seven, but then he was ….well whatever you call what happened when Mum and Dad died?" Harry suggested.

"Disembodied."

"Yeah that."

"So, the Crown, Locket and Diary were done before that so maybe that is all he has. With the Snake being a replacement for the Diary and Harry being an accident?" Sirius suggested.

Remus stared at the list with his head tilted to one side, "No because there was still him. So that would still have made four pieces of his soul."

"What do all these things have in common?" Percival asked, staring at the board.

"We don't know," Sirius shrugged. "Maybe he liked cross dressing."

The others turned to stare at him.

"What? Let's be honest the tiara and locket, I mean come on. Then a teenage boy writing in a diary? I don't think so," he grinned.

"I don't think whether or not he like to wear women's clothes is going to help us," Remus said exasperatedly.

"He wears robes," Harry grinned. "That's pretty much like a dress. In fact the one he wore after his resurrection was definitely a.."

"Harry!" Remus pinched his nose. "I don't care about Riddle's transgender tendencies, he is still the current Dark Lord and we…"

"Wouldn't that be Dark Lady then?" Harry piped up cheekily. "If he still prefers male pronouns then it is crossdressing, but if he considers himself to be…herself then…"

"Regardless…." Remus snapped.

"No, I think it is a valid point," Percival said thoughtfully. "It's a bit stereotypical, but women are more of the collectors of memorabilia."

"Accept sports, James had that snitch remember," Sirius said.

"But pretties and momentos. Maybe the objects were significant to him in some way."

"Right so who owned them first?"

"Well the Diary was owned by Riddle himself, it had his name on it," Harry offered, and the information was added to the board.

"Clearly the locket is Slytherin's," Sirius stated surely.

"Why would you think that?" Remus asked.

"Because it has a 'S' on it."

"Slytherin is not the only Family name to start with 'S', there is also Smith and Selwyn."

"Come on it even looks like a snake, and Slytherin was famous for talking to snakes," Sirius protested.

"I thought he was famous for starting up a school," Remus said blandly.

"He could speak to snakes!"

"So can Riddle," Harry pointed out.

"See and he claims to be the Heir of Slytherin, and they are the only ones who were…are known to speak to snakes."

"Really Sirius, the only ones? One thousand years of history and only two people ever, have been able to speak to snakes? With the way the purebloods intermarry over here, it's a surprise that everyone doesn't speak to snakes. Besides what about Harry?" Percival argued.

"Did you never wonder why the muggle symbol for medicine is a snake?" Remus asked. "It's because the best healers, before the Statute of Secrecy, were always those that could speak Parseltongue. You know it is still a prized talent in India."

"It's prized in a lot of places around the world, I believe the amazon might be another," Percival added.

"Well that doesn't help us then," Sirius finally gave in.

"That's what the library is for Sirius," Remus pointed out.

"Fine, I'll go up the back and see what I can find."

"Ha I was right!" Sirius crowed, as he rushed into the parlour. "See here," he pointed to a hand drawn picture on the open page. "Slytherin's locket." Flipping a couple of pages, he pointed out another picture, "Ravenclaw's Diadem."

"Diadem?" Harry asked.

"It's just a fancy name for a tiara Pup."

"Well then if he is collecting founder's items what did Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have?"

"It seems each of the Founders had an item that they symbolised their traits. The locket with the snakey 'S' on it was said to enable any non-speaker to understand and converse in parseltongue. Slytherin originally had it made for his betrothed. Ravenclaw's diadem was supposed to increase intelligence. Helga Hufflepuff had a cup which was said to aid in her work in the Hogwarts kitchens and infirmary, though it says that no-one knew how. Godric Gryffindor had a sword. It was goblin made and enchanted to aid in the slaying of dark creatures."

"I know where that one is. It's at Hogwarts," Harry said surely.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I used it to kill the Basilisk."

"Right so it is not a Horcrux then."

"It didn't affect me like the others did, so no."

"I think Hufflepuff's cup is a definite possibility though." The new details were added to the board along with the cup written in its own column."

"I think we are looking for one more item," Remus mused.

"Why that's six and then the piece that is well….him, right," Sirius questioned.

"Yeah. But the one in Harry was made accidentally. Besides he is trying his best to kill Harry, so he obviously isn't worried about losing that soul piece, if we assume that he figured it out after the events with Arthur at Christmas."

"Speaking of which," he turned to look at Harry. "You have been keeping up your Occlumency practice haven't you."

"Yes Dad."

"Right so we are missing one Horcrux and then we need to figure out where he would hide them." Sirius and Remus were still in the parlour.

"Well get your chalk out again. Harry said the diary was at the Malfoy's. The Locket was in some cave according to Kreacher. The Diadem at Hogwarts. The others could be anywhere," Sirius sounded frustrated.

"So we need to figure out how all these thing relate to Tom Riddle," Remus mused.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry added as he walked into the parlour, carry a tea tray. "I thought you guys could use a snack."

"Ooh did you bake?"

Harry smiled shyly, "Yeah. I hope that's ok."

"Well, I will miss the treats when you go back to school. What did you make this time?"

"Just some choc chip biscuits. Where are you at?"

"We need to know more about Riddle."

Harry frowned, "Last year…." he started speaking hesitantly.

"Have a seat Harry," Sirius drew the boy all the way into the room.

"In the Graveyard, I was…..they…he had me pinned to his father's grave," he swallowed, closing his eyes.

"Do you know where it is?"

"They didn't say, and I was taken there and back again by portkey, but I…I can give you the memories," he offered in a near whisper.

"That might help," Remus said thoughtfully, "and perhaps the one from your second year in the Chamber?"

"Yeah that would be ok. How do I do it?"

"Just think about the event, say from when you and Ron went down into the Chamber, all the way until the end, so when Fawkes carried you out of there."

"Alright."

"And I just hold my wand beside your temple like this and say Recedere Praeteritum. A memory comes away like so." There was now a silvery thread hanging from his wand. "And we place it in a vial," he clicked his fingers and held out a hand to Sirius, who quickly summoned a vial, uncorked it and passed it over. "Done. Now the next one," he said clinically, corking the vial, "Should start from…"

"It's ok, I've got it," Harry said hurriedly.

"Right then," Remus lifted his wand again. "Recedere Praeteritum."

A second strand of silver was withdrawn. It made Harry feel…lighter.

"Strange feeling isn't it," Sirius said. "It kind of deadens the memory."

"Feels like it is further away," Harry agreed.

"Thank you, Harry," Remus said.

"I just hope it helps."

"It's amazing how many extra details there are when a memory is looked at closely, things that you don't even realise that you noticed."

"Now finish your tea, and then go and find Percival and get up to some mischief, you've spent enough time in here. Let Remus and I take care of this."

"Alright," Harry drained his cup and left.

"Marvolo isn't a very common name is it?" Remus mused.

"Nope, I can't think of it being used amongst the Purebloods for a while, and even then, it was predominately all within the one family."

"Which family was that?"

"The Gaunts."

"Well at least that gives us a place to start."

It was the morning that they were to catch the express back to Hogwarts.

"Right, before I take you boys to the station. I have something for you," Sirius said.

"You didn't need to get us anything," Harry protested,

Sirius just smiled, "Think of this as something to save my sanity." He withdrew two identical silver coloured cuffs, from his pocket. They were covered in runes.

"What are they?" Harry asked curiously.

"Have a look and see if you can figure it out," was all the reply he got.

"Well, these," Harry pointed out a row, "speak of transportation, but these," he pointed to another five runes, "are all about wards. It looks like this is a portkey but with way more power than usual. Which is odd because there is a spell for that."

"They are ward busters," Percival said surely.

"Right you are Percival, but don't go telling anyone as while they are not exactly illegal, they are certainly frowned upon by the people in authority. I made these so that no matter where you are if someone attacks, you have a means of escape, even if they have anti-portkey wards up. They will send you to the front step here, and alert me at the same time."

Harry threw his arms around Sirius, "Thank you."

"Do they have a password."

"Yes, you just need to touch it and say, 'home safe'."

They boys nodded and slipped the cuffs into place.

"Sirius," Percival said staring thoughtfully at the closed curtains around the portrait of Walburger Black. "Do you think someone could have done something to your mother's portrait? It does not seem normal for it to scream and yell like it does."

"She hated me in life, and she hates me in death," Sirius said.

"But Kreacher said that things weren't so bad before you went to school," Harry added.

The tall man stopped and thought. Even though he had made a lot of process, he still had a lot of the memories from his early years still needed sorting out. Shaking his head, it would take longer to sort out then the time they had available currently.

"It's possible I suppose, Kreacher would have had to pick the portrait up from the artists, so someone could have cursed it while it was there. Or perhaps it became tainted from spending so long locked in a house with the Horcrux. I'll look into it when I get a chance, but honestly it isn't high on my list at the moment. Right, now let's get you to the train."

"They're away?" Remus asked as Sirius walked into the parlour and stopped in front of the board.

"Yep, I saw them safely to the train."

"I've been thinking."

"Don't strain anything," Sirius joked.

"That would be you Pads," Remus chuckled before the smile slipped from his face. "I… think you were right about Dumbledore. Mooney….. is always more alert in his presence."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I think…no, I'm sure it was him….at the farm," he clarified. "I know it was a voice that I know, but it was muffled because they were in another room. I remembered when we were at Hogwarts standing outside his office, waiting to be let in and hearing his voice through the door. I'm sure that it was him, and Mooney agrees."

"The question is what are we going to do about it? I think it would be dangerous to let Albus know that you are still alive."

Remus nodded his agreement, "There is not much more that we can do until Dumbledore is…..removed. No-one would take my word over his."

"Is there some way we can start to discredit him?"

"I don't know, he has always seemed so impeccably good."

"Accept for his dealings with Harry, but I don't think Harry would appreciate us using him that way."

"No. I doubt he would like the additional attention it would bring."

"Still it would be useful to do something while Amelia is investigating his actions at the school. Perhaps if there is already doubt some of her charges might actually stick."

"Right, I'll add it to my list of things to research."

Remus wrote in a new column on the board and reached for the stack of old newspapers he had been searching though.

"What was that name again, you know the one that you mentioned when we were talking about the name Marvolo?"

"Gaunt."

"I thought so." He folded the paper in half. "Look at this." He passed the paper over.

"Morfin Gaunt imprisoned for killing his father Marvolo, leading to the end of the line. Huh, and they mention that they are the last of the direct line descended from Salazar Slytherin."

"Do you think he is related? I'm sure that there was a funeral notice for Morfin in one of the other papers." Remus reached for the stack.

"Let me just," Sirius moved to the shelves and pulled out a copy of _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_ and quickly flipped through the pages. "It appears there was a daughter as well, Merope. She is listed as having been married to a Muggle, though there is a small note here that she was then stripped of her family magic and disowned. Do you think she could be Riddles mother?"

"If she married a Muggle then the wedding would be recorded in the parish records. Does it say where they lived?"

"Yeah, his body was found in Little Hangleton."

"Alright, I'll head out tomorrow and have a look around."

"I'll get the pensieve out so you can have a look at Harry's memory before you go," Sirius suggested.

Remus retrieved the memory while Sirius was finding the bowl.

"Are you going to look to?" Remus enquired, seeing Sirius staring at the bowl.

"I…don't know if I should. Would Harry want me to?"

"He gave it to us so we could watch it."

"Right."

Remus looked at him sympathetically, "You just need to remember that he is ok. In fact, he is doing much better."

"Yeah," Sirius reached out a hand and the pair tumbled into the memory.

There was the shrill blast from a whistle, and a roar from the crowd. Harry had started the memory from the beginning of the maze.

"I guess we follow him in?" Sirius gazed after his son apprehensively.

They watched as he split from Amos' boy only for their paths to cross again a short while later. The lack of obstacles somewhat surprise. Then there was the not-dementor and Sirius was proud how quickly Harry deduced it was a Boggart. Again Harry travelled without opposition, until he faced the golden mist. Which while being interesting was rather easily overcome. Then he came across the Skrewt. What ever Hagrid had done to breed those was clearly not legal and Sirius cursed the large man. The a cry of 'Crucio' tore through the air and Harry was off. Unsurprisingly, thought they wished otherwise, running towards the danger. The champions separated again. Not another obstacle until Harry came upon the Sphinx, despite the fact that they could hear other things moving in the nearby lanes of the maze. Sirius cried out it fear for his Godson, when they again found Cedric only for an Acromantula to bear down on them.

"Of course, you would Harry," Sirius muttered as he watched Harry put forth the idea of both boys taking the cup and then they were whirling away. The pair landing heavily in the Graveyard.

"I'll go look around, you keep an eye on things here," Remus instructed and started walking between the tombstones and markers.

Eventually they were spat out into the parlour, Sirius collapsing onto the soft carpet. "He's ok, he's ok, he's ok. I left him after that I left him! Remus how could I? I was there when he told Dumbledore what happened and I still left him! Merlin Harry."

"Breathe Padfoot. He is safely on his way to Hogwarts. He's safe and he has Percival with him. Addison has already approved the ritual. He has forgiven you for leaving him."

They clung to each other, reassuring themselves. It was just as Sirius had calmed down that Remus' eyes went wide.

"He took Harry's blood! How on earth are the blood words supposed to keep working? He can't go back there Sirius! It's like Riddle has been given a free pass into that house! What was Dumbledore thi….Oh," he shook his head in defeat.

"I know, I know, that was one of the things that made us start to reassess him too. I doubt they ever really worked if they were powered by Lily's love. We know that was in short supply in that house until recently."

"How's she going?" Remus asked rising the reference to Petunia as a distraction.

"I don't really know. Vernon did a job on her that is for certain. Harry asked me to look after it. I warded a new house for her and Dudley to live in and paid for Dudley's school fees."

"Harry asked you to?"

"Yeah. He's a better man than I."

"Me too."

"Right, enough of this," Sirius said determinedly, standing up, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Pass me some of those papers."

Finally, Petunia was being discharged from hospital. Eventually, just the previous evening, she had listened to her son, his emotive plea doing what Sirius' words could not and had signed the papers Samuel McMillan had left for her. Calling the man to come and collect them. He said it would take a little while for them to be processed but he guaranteed that he would arrange for Vernon to sign them and she would never have to see her husband again. They had used the address for the Law firm, so her new address was not divulged. Dudley had been given permission to come home for the holidays and help her move in.

"Alright luv?" the nurse asked watching Petunia scan her bedside.

"Just checking to see if I have forgotten anything," Petunia gave a tight smile.

The nurse bent to look under the bed.

"Is this yours?" she picked up an envelope from the floor. It was the registered letter that Petunia had signed for the day that everything had happened.

"Oh, thank you," Petunia tucked it into her bag without a thought.

"Well if that is everything. I'll just get you to sign this and you are right to go," the nurse smiled.

"Thank you. You've all been a great help," Petunia said as she signed the paper work, then hitching her bag over her shoulder she walked off the ward.

Dudley had been at home waiting for her, keys to the front door in his hand. He showed her how to turn the security system on and off. That it looked completely non-magical was reassuring. With a sigh she pushed open the door. She was dreading having to head to the shops to buy furniture and wondered if Vernon had already cancelled her access to their joint account, though she had not dared to contemplate how she would manage if he had. It took her two steps into the front room to realise that on at least one front she had been worried for nothing. Not only was the house furnished, but when she checked there was even food in the fridge and pantry. Petunia burst into tears. It took two cups of tea and many reassuring words from Dudley for her to calm. He left her in the sitting room, with her feet raised on a pouffe and a cup of tea on the side table saying he had some homework to do but that she could call him if she needed anything and he would be right back down. It seemed that his teachers had dropped him off an hour before she arrived and he had already had time to unpack.

Looking around it appeared that her nephew and his godfather had thought of everything. The obvious care they had taken made her feel even more ashamed. She noted that there was no cupboard in the space under the stairs instead it was filled with a small open bookcase. This led to another bout of tears. A quick search of the little draw in the side table in the hall, produced a pad of paper and an envelope, but there was no pen to be seen. With a sigh she returned to the comfortable chair she had been sitting in and picked her handbag up off the floor, to look for a pen. Rifling through the contents she was distracted as her had touched the now crinkled envelope of the registered letter. Hoping it was not a fine, she slit it open with a nail. Inside was a sheet of the thick paper she recognised from Harry's letters. Why would someone from the Wizarding world contact her? Harry would surely use normal post being one of the few to know her new address.

_Dear Mrs Dursley,_

_Due to circumstance beyond our control ,an administrative error has been made that impacts your account. When you accepted Mr Harry James Potter into your care on the morning of the First of November 1981, as per the last Will and Testament of his parents, Lily and James Potter, you were entitled to a payment of Five Hundred pounds per month for his upkeep. Unfortunately, this payment was re-directed to another account. The accumulated amount (including interest) of ninety thousand pounds has now been transferred to your account at the Bank of England. Please find attached a copy of the receipt of transfer. We apologise for any inconvenience caused._

_Sincerely _

_Striknott_

Petunia hurriedly pulled the slip out of the envelop, hoping that the money had not been transferred into the joint account she shared with Vernon. Sighing with relief when she saw the listed name. Petunia had always held on to her childhood bank account. For the many years after she had stopped work it had languished nearly empty, but for some unknown reason she could not bring herself to close it. In fact, over the years she had quite forgotten about it, only reminded by the occasional statement that the bank had sent. Now though, seeing the numbers listed next to her name (Petunia Evans- she had never gotten around to changing her name on the account either) lifted part of the weight off her shoulders. The little nest egg would provide her with the breathing space she needed to get back on her feet. She sent a silent thank you to her sister into the ether.

cut-

"Try again Miss Granger," the voice snapped.

Perspiration was running into her eyes as she screwed up her face and tried to draw on the necessary power.

"This time put more emotion into it. You have to really meet it."

Another spell left her wand and fizzled before it reached the target.

"Think about all the times you have bullied and belittled for you brains. When you have been cast aside. How that makes you feel…" he coaxed.

"Crucio!" she cried, and the rat squealed, muscles spasming against the force of the spell that held it petrified.

"Well done."

Hermione smiled at the praise, she had done it. She was good enough. Oh, how they would regret ever having made fun of her. Throwing her head back she began to laugh.

\- cut -


	26. Chapter 26

The Express rattled over the rails, speeding towards the Scottish Highlands. For the return journey the Gryffindors had spread out with Harry and Percival joining Seamus and Dean in a carriage while Neville and the others were further down the train catching up with some of the Hufflepuffs.

"Did you have a good Holiday?" Harry asked, as Seamus hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack.

"Yeah," Seamus nodded and then began to tell the story of the Football match that Dean had taken him to.

Half way through the trip just after the lady had been by with the snack trolley, their door slid open again, Harry had the thought that they should really start applying some sort of locking charm and intention ward to it, maybe he could do something with some little ward stones. Perhaps he could find something in Hogsmeade on the next weekend.

He looked up at the door and said "I see you've come for your regular visit Malfoy. I must say if I did not know that you were dating Parkinson, I would have thought that you had a crush on one of us."

"I'm not dating Pansy!" Draco snapped, looking slightly horrified.

"Really? Because I'm sure that a Prefect found the pair of you lip locked in a broom cupboard just before the holidays. Do you mean to tell me you're just using her? Huh. I can't see that going well."

"Wha…!" Draco exclaimed thoroughly off balance. "No Potter!" He shook his head in frustration. "When the Dark Lord takes over, you'll regret every time you have insulted me," he threatened.

Percival stood, moving himself in front of Harry. Draco looked him up and down, they were about the same height.

"Who are you again? You Potter's bodyguard? I know, bet you're a poof. Ha, Potter the poof!" Draco snorted.

"I would suggest," Percival began his voice dropping in tone and volume. If his subordinates heard that tone, they would have hustled off to the furthest corners of the Auror office and made sure that their work was completed as quickly and quietly as possible without drawing his wrath on themselves. The only reason hexes were not flying as yet was because he was facing a school child. "I would suggest that you learn some self-control Mr Malfoy," the words were clipped, and cold. "You have already been warned."

"About Harry being Heir Black," Malfoy sniffed dismissively. "Mother and Father are sorting that out at the bank. It won't be any obstacle. The family motto will not allow a Mudblood to become Lord."

Harry opened his mouth, to comment, but a stern look from Percival had him shutting it abruptly.

"You will leave Harry alone," Percival growled.

"Or what?" Malfoy puffed out his chest, surreptitiously dropping his wand into his hand.

"Or you will have to deal with me."

"A jumped-up Yank? What are you going to do?"

"A jumped-up yank who is the Godson of the current American Ambassador to the British Isles? I will have all of your Father's extraneous activities exposed and shut down, decreasing his income by at least half, and then I will arrange to have every skeleton in his closet exposed on the International stage."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me!"

Draco, raised his hand, "Densaugeo!"

Percival merely batted the hex aside and it splashed impotently against the wall of the carriage with a bang.

"Expellunt Exta!"

Percival's face became stony and with a wave of his hand the curse hit a ward. Another wave and Malfoy was petrified and bound.

"An entrail expelling curse, on board a school train!" he hissed fiercely. "Well you are certainly showing your Pedigree aren't you." His patronus appeared and was quickly sent bearing a message to Seraphina. Another was sent to notify the Head Boy, Timothy McMahon, of the incident.

"Really Potter!" Tim sighed when he arrived at their compartment and saw Malfoy lying bound on the floor. "Can you ever just be, I don't know, not in trouble?"

"Hey," Harry raised his hands, "this wasn't even me!"

"You mean Malfoy came to your carriage for a reason other than annoying you?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well…." Harry said sheepishly.

They were interrupted by Seraphina's cheetah.

"Aurors will be on site for your arrival at Hogsmeade. Be prepared to have your memory of the event withdrawn for evidence. Because of the nature of the curse, there may be a trial."

"That serious?" Tim asked, looking around at the stern faces. "This is going to be a right headache. I hope you two," he looked at Dean and Seamus, "are willing to give a statement?" Both boys agreed. "Good. Well I guess I'll just levitate him up to the Prefects carriage."

He waved his wand and muttered the necessary spell, Malfoy floated out of the carriage behind the Head Boy.

When the train pulled up to the station, the disembarking students stopped to stare at the squad of Aurors that were waiting at one end of the platform. The whispering began immediately. Harry, Percival, Seamus and Dean moved towards them.

"Been causing trouble, Harry?" the amused voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted them.

Harry smiled, "Not me this time."

"Alright boys, Harry, you're with me, Percival with Tonks, …."

"Dean," and "Seamus," the boys identified themselves.

"Right Dean you're with Robbards," he gestured to the next Auror. "Seamus with Dawlish. It won't take long to give your statements. We'll have you up to the school in no time."

Each boy was led away by their designated Auror, and gave their statement, with Percival agreeing to supply his memory. As they finished Harry noticed both Crabbe and Goyle standing near another couple of Aurors and realised they must have had to give a statement as well.

"Right, we're done with you for the time being. There is carriage waiting to take you up to the school. No doubt dinner has started. Off you go."

"Where have you been," Hermione hissed as they slid into the only vacant seats at the table. "They're saying there was an attack on the train! What did you do Harry?"

"Why would you think I had anything to do with it?" Harry replied indignantly.

"Pft, you're always up to something Harry. I heard that Malfoy was injured. He was bought up and taken straight to the infirmary. I know you don't get on Harry, but you can't just go around cursing people you don't like. People will say you've gone dark!"

"Our Harrykins Dark?" Fred scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous Granger. Besides we all know Harry did not do anything."

"Why didn't they just unpetrify him?" Harry whispered to Percival.

"I don't know," Percival reached towards a plate of baked potatoes. He paused when they wiggled. "What…"

One by one the tops of the potatoes split open, and a small golden fluffy creature popped out, 'cheep' 'cheep'.

"I think I'll give the potatoes a miss then," Harry said with a small laugh, looking around the hall.

There were dozens of the small birds on each table, roaming from one end to the other, stepping on the plates of food. It was not obvious at first but after a few moments, it became clear that they were growing. Then they moulted, feathers gradually bleeding through the fluff. Soon there were red bantams everywhere, their squawks a harsh accompaniment to the laughter and coos that filled the room. The above it all voice was heard "Dear Merlin it is going to poop right there!"

"Bwark!" the hen called as she dropped her egg.

"What in Merlin's name is that!"

"It's an Easter Egg!" squealed a Muggleborn First year. Reaching out to snag an egg that had just been laid near her. Unhesitatingly she unwrapped the foil and to the horrified fascination of the purebloods watching, popped the brown egg into her mouth, giving a satisfied groan as she did.

Harry chuckled as he watched Veronica and Iris, who were sitting a couple of places further down the table, delightedly open eggs as well.

Percival grinned at Harry.

"What?"

"You are adorable when you giggle like that," Percival's warm breath tickled the curve of Harry's ear, causing him to shiver.

"I did not giggle!" Harry replied affronted.

"Sorry Harry, but yeah, you did," Neville agreed with Percival who smiled in satisfaction.

"Now perhaps you can explain the eggs to us?" Percival suggested.

"Well it's a muggle Easter thing. The wrapping is foil and the egg chocolate. They symbolise re-birth and growth. I won't go into the religious reasons for it, but even before that there was celebration of the turn of the seasons, with spring being the season of birth and growth"

"Besides, they taste good," said Dean breaking one apart, passing a piece to Seamus and popping the rest into his mouth.

"Nearly as good as Honeydukes!" Seamus agreed.

Fred and George shared a look, bent towards the group and said, "Thanks, what till you see the aftereffects." With a wink they snatched up a couple of eggs each and made their way out of the hall. Disappearing just as the First year Ravenclaw disappeared from view under a covering of shiny paper like a technicoloured mummy. With a crinkle her arms wiggled and popped out the sides, her hands reached up and tore the paper covering her face and she reappeared giggling.

With all the distractions the students had not noticed but there were less teachers than usual in the Great Hall, those that were missing where gathered in the infirmary.

"It looks to be just an ordinary petrification, and binding, but I can't reverse them," Poppy was saying.

"Who cast it?" Albus Dumbledore asked.

"Percival Graves," Snape supplied. Dumbledore's head turned so fast that Poppy heard the crack.

"Have a care Albus, you'll hurt yourself if you keep that up," she chided. "Perhaps you could have a go at removing them?"

"Of course," he raised his wand and pointed it at the boy.

The doors to the infirmary slammed open, to reveal a very irate blonde.

"Who has attacked my son! I trust they have been taken into custody. I will not settle for any punishment less then expulsion," Lucius Malfoy fumed.

"Really," Amelia bones, starred the man down. "I can almost guarantee there will be an expulsion and a term in Azkaban. But I doubt it is the one you are thinking of."

"I beg your pardon!" Lucius Malfoy said indignantly. "But whomsoever has harmed my son will pay!"

"Don't be a ninny. Your son is perfectly fine," Poppy said blandly.

"Fine! Fine. You think that lying there trussed up like a….like a…." he huffed. "He is anything but fine."

"Well then I suggest you step away and allow us to remove these spells then," Poppy said.

Grumbling the man stepped away from the bed, and Albus Dumbledore raised his wand once more.

"What are you doing?" Lucius made a grab for Dumbledore's wand arm.

"The spells are too strong for me to remove, so I have asked the Headmaster to…."

"You are so weak that you cannot remove the spell cast by a school child?" Malfoy sneered.

"By all means, have a go yourself then," Poppy shrugged, nonchalantly. "It's only a simple Incarcerous and a Petrificus Totalus, so a Finite should do it."

Lucius pointed his wand at his son, "Finite Incantatum."

There was no relaxing of muscles, no unwinding of rope, nothing happened.

"FINITE INCATATUM!"

Silence.

"Right well, if you have quite finished, I believe we will allow the Headmaster have a go. If that doesn't work, Severus and I can try casting in tandem."

"Finite Incantatum," Dumbledore intoned.

Nothing.

"I would think that even you would need to put more effort in then that," Poppy told the Headmaster sternly.

"FINITE INCANTATUM!"

Slowly, almost begrudgingly the cords slithered from around the boy, falling off the bed and disappearing. Then there was the wiggling of a finger, and gradually movement came to the boy on the bed.

"Right then," Amelia said, suddenly all business. "Draco Malfoy, you are being placed under arrest for casting the Entrail Expelling curse on another student. Please note anything that you say at this time, can be used against you at your trial."

Malfoy Senior's jaw dropped open, "No! You are to arrest whoever did this to Draco!"

Amelia was unimpressed, "Whoever did this to Draco, was acting in self-defence. And has stopped your son from being charged with murder. Attempted murder is still on the cards though."

"But he…"

"He was completely unharmed. Trussed up like a chicken certainly, but in perfect health. They did not even let his head hit the floor when he was petrified," she sounded grudgingly impressed. "Now I will be taking Mr Malfoy…" she paused, "Junior. To the Auror's office to obtain his statement." With a firm hand, she clasped Draco by the arm, sitting then standing him up and marching him towards the floo.

"Draco, say nothing until I get there," Lucius ordered his son. He moved to follow them to the floo.

"Oh, I am sorry Mr Malfoy but only Healers or Aurors are authorised to use my floo. You'll have to head over to the Three Broomsticks," Poppy said.

Lucius Malfoy turned on his heel and practically stabbing his cane into the floor with every step he made his way out. He definitely did not run, at least not until he was out of sight.

"For a moment there, I did not think you were going to be able to remove the spells Albus," Poppy confided.

"It is perhaps just as well that I did," Albus said, not acknowledging that he had felt another's magic join his as he cast the spell. "At least this way his anger is focussed elsewhere."

"Elsewhere! Do we know what happened Albus?" Poppy asked.

"The Aurors have been being surprisingly tight lipped about it all in terms of identifying the individuals involved. However, I do know that there was a confrontation between young Mr Malfoy and Harry Potter. I believe that somehow Mr Graves became involved and that was the result. I do think that we need to consider that the boy may have performed some Dark ritual to be able to cast spells with such power," he said acting concerned.

"Percival Graves Dark? Really Albus!" Poppy laughed. "Now you are being ridiculous, he spent a significant time in here last term, and I would have detected anything of the sort. Amelia said the boy was acting in self-defence I rather think that his emotional state, if it is true that his friend was attacked, gave him an extra power boost. It has been known to happen before. Especially if he was faced with something like the Entrail Expelling curse."

"Hmm," Albus would say no more.

Albus could not concentrate on the school paperwork that evening. His mind was consumed with the thought of that dratted American boy, That Percival now had enough power to prevent even the Elder wand undoing his spells was deeply concerning and lent more credence to the theory that the boy was the Master of Death. He would have to examine the Cloak tonight, just to be sure. Albus was certain that his wand was the Elder wand, which meant that one could be the Master without obtaining all the Hallows. But how?! Did it also mean that the wand was changing its allegiance? No that was not how wands worked and his spells were as powerful as before.

Certain that he would not be able to concentrate on reading the latest report from Pamona Sprout with the attached request to expand the Greenhouses, until he had checked the Cloak, Albus pushed his chair away from his desk. Hurriedly making his way through his personnel office, to his bedroom. Once there he levitated the bed out of the way and casting the necessary spells lowered the trap door. He did not know which Headmaster had created this space or the purpose behind it, but it had certainly proven to be invaluable. Climbing the ladder, he emerged into a cluttered room. That was half the brilliance of it. Should anyone else happen to notice the odd coloured blocks in the ceiling, stumble across the perfect combination of spells to lower the trap door and find the room. They would still think that the space was merely a storeroom for the Headmaster's extra belongings. However, in the cupboard in the back corner of the room, obscured by boxes was another door. Inside that room Albus kept all of his prized possessions.

He grinned as he looked around the space, taking pride in his possessions. It was becoming cluttered too, perhaps it was time to cast yet another expansion charm. That was a thought for another day. Tonight, he needed to address the issue at hand. There folded neatly on the shelf along the furthest wall was the Cloak. Obtaining it had been simplicity itself. He had merely waited until the alarms that he had placed on the Potter's cottage had sounded and made his way to the scene, under a strong disillusionment charm and an ordinary invisibility cloak. James had not even bothered to hide the thing. It was just lying there, in the locked trunk under the bed in the main bedroom, behind several wards, waiting for anybody to wander and take it.

Albus had known what it was the moment he had lain eyes on it. Fleamont had used it to gad about the school at night. James using it as well was merely confirmation. The spells on a normal invisibility cloak would have faded in the time between. It was ridiculous that they should have had it. They did not respect the Cloak for what it was and what it meant, that was clear by the fact that they bought it to school of all places. They were irresponsible. In fact, he was doing them all a favour by taking it, he would surely look after it better than they.

Caressing the soft fabric, Albus raised it to his face, smelling the cloth. Summarily raising his wand, he cast a spell on it, and frowned. It did not have the dark, seductive signature of death on it. Glaring at the cloak as if it was at fault, Albus tried to recall if he had cast the detection spell on it after he had rescued it from the Potters neglectful care? Raising his wand to his temple he withdrew the memory. Hastily with the cloak in his hand he made his way to the pensive, dropped the memory and practically dived in after it.

"Argh!" Albus yelled as he emerged from his memory, wand dropping into his hand. A downward slash and the chair in front of his desk burst. Raising his wand sharply, sent everything on his desk flying into the air. A final jabbing thrust, caused the window behind his desk to explode outward in a shower of multicoloured glass shards. The cloak was not THE CLOAK at all, it was just a damnable invisibility cloak. Just one of good enough quality to last a couple of generations, even now the spells on it were beginning to fade. By giving the boy the other cloak in First year, Albus had actually replaced one that's spells were dying with a brand-new cloak! Calming down slowly, Albus returned his room to order and slumped into his chair. Instead of having two of the Hallows as he had thought he only had one! He had been so sure that the Potters would be the owners of Deaths Cloak, given their link to the Peverells. Now he had not a clue as to where it could be.

With deep breaths Albus, tried to find the stillness at his core. It was always a bit of a challenging balancing act, but he achieved it. Letting the black threads circle and storm around him, as he thought.

There was of course another Heir to the Peverells. The Gaunts, who were dead. Could they have owned the Cloak as well as the stone? He had heard that the stone had been placed in their Lordship ring. Who would even know where it was now? Marvolo was killed by Morfin. It would not have taken long with his severely limited amount of magic for Morfin to pass in Azkaban. Sure, Albus knew about their relationship to Voldemort, but he was certain that when the boy had met them (he had of course engineered the meeting) he would not have considered that they might own something as precious as the resurrection stone or a Lordship ring. Albus would have to have a look at their run-down little cottage surely with Marvolo's hatred of the Goblins he would have hidden the ring there and not placed it in his vault. Yes, perhaps another Hallow was within his reach after all. Now that he had thought the matter through and made a plan, Albus decided that the execution of it could wait until the school holidays. With any luck, he would be able to obtain the two Hallows and would then wrest the title from the undeserving brat who currently held it.

Minerva watched each of her fellow Professors as they made their way into the teachers' lounge. Everyone seemed most relaxed after the holidays, she was surprised that it really was everyone, including Severus. She had often worried about the dour young man who never seemed to leave his put-upon expression behind. This evening though he seemed almost comfortable and she was sure that the little twitch at the side of his mouth signified that he was most pleased about something. Minerva made a note to talk to him about it later, as Dumbledore flounced into the room.

"Now were there any problems over the Holidays that need to be addressed?"

Filius Flitwick spoke first, "It seems that Mrs Sotherby passed over the holidays. Daisy was able to attend the funeral and the family has decided that it would be best if she does not return for the final term. She has booked in to take all her NEWTs at the Ministry in August," he said quickly before Albus could protest again. "She has asked if the Professors are willing, to be send her the assignments and she will owl them back when she is able."

They all indicated that they would be quite happy to.

"Now," Professor Vector said, when it was clear that Filius had finished. "I have marked the papers for the students wanting to test into classes and both have performed extremely well. I have no issues with recommending them both for their OWLs this year.'

"I agree," Bathsheda Babbling cut in excitedly. "Both Mr Potter and Mr Longbottom performed excellently, both producing well thought out projects, which I believe will easily allow them to pass their OWLs this year. I also dropped by the Burrow and had a quick word with Mr Weasley. On a brief verbal test, I believe he will be fine to enter Fifth year at the start of the new year. He is not at the point of developing a project as yet, though he has several good ideas and is planning on working on them over the Summer holidays. He said he wanted to focus on the OWLs he was going to take for the rest of this year. Which I encouraged him towards."

"I must raise my objections to Mr Potter taking on this workload. I believe the events on the Hogwarts Express today demonstrate that he is not mature enough to be given this extra responsibility and I have deep concerns about the company he has been keeping of late."

"I did not think Mr Potter was involved in today's incident," Severus said drily.

"Mr Malfoy entered the compartment Harry was in and a disagreement ensued. At some point it devolved, and curses were thrown, resulting in Mr Malfoy ending up unconscious in the Hospital Wing. Needless to say, Lucius Malfoy is not pleased. Now we must ask ourselves if a person who is willing to harm another student that way is the type of person that we would like Harry associating with. Until he can make better choices with regards to whom he spends his time with, I do not believe we should be pandering to his desire to …."

"Albus you are extemporising. You have already said that Amelia did not give us the details," Minerva cut him off. "Mr Malfoy was not unconscious, he was merely petrified and bound. The only reason he was in the Infirmary at all was because no-one else could remove the spells. Amelia Bones has floo called to say that they have already reviewed the statements by all parties and the memories provided by Mr Graves and Mr Malfoy and determined that Mr Graves acted in a fashion which protected the other boys in their compartment, and not only that but his response was entirely appropriate. Poppy felt that the strength of the spells was merely an accidental overcasting caused by the stress of the situation," the Transfiguration teacher informed the others.

"Well I think," Flitwick turned the conversation back to Bathsheda and Septima, "That you both have done a wonderful job. Do you feel this 'testing in' would work in the future?"

"Yes. I feel much more comfortable sending the boys for their OWLs now. It's a good format, and I would recommend we repeat the process should the situation arise again," Bathsheda said.

"Is there anything else?" Albus asked huffily.

Minerva raised a piece of parchment, "Timothy McMahon has written a recommendation for Ronald Weasley with regards to his Prefects duties. He notes that Ron has always been prompt in his attendance to the meetings and rounds and has gone above and beyond the expected duties. You all know my Lions are not necessarily the best when it comes to organisation, however it seems that Mr Weasley has, using his own initiative, discussed with the other Prefects what systems they already had in place. He then implemented a system of mentoring on top of study groups that are similar to the other Houses. Mr McMahon and Mr Weasley have discussed the mentoring program. Reporting on this discussion the Head Boy felt that Mr Weasley had some very valid points including that a inter-House mentoring group might help to decrease some of the animosity and competitiveness that exists, and that on some levels the teachers should also be involved. He also suggested that the mentoring for First years include more of an orientation to the Wizarding world. It seems they have been getting a lot of questions on the things that are not covered when their letters are delivered."

Albus Dumbledore saw red, now Ronald Weasley that red-headed imbecile was getting out of hand! He would have to talk to Molly, the boy needed to be bought in to line. No, this just would not do. The only reason Albus had the amount of power he did was everyone was so uninformed.

"No! I believe this a monumentally bad idea," he said over the excited discussion that had erupted.

"But Albus why?" Minerva queried. "Is this not the sort of thing that will decrease the contention between the houses and help the Muggleborn students to adjust?"

"Oh no," Albus shook his head sadly. "This is just how Voldemort was created. He was a sad little boy who was no harm to anyone until he discovered all the ins and outs of the Wizarding world and the power went to his head. The next thing we knew he was running around killing. Even though it seems like it would work. You have me guarantee to that it would not!"

Minerva looked over at Pamona, who inclined her head towards Filius, who gave a slight nod at Severus who frowned even deeper, as impossible as that seemed. They were all agreed. They would continue this discussion later.

"If that is all then," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. When nobody added anything he swept imperiously from the room.

"Shall we head to my office?" Minerva asked the other Heads of House. The discussion they held was brief. Without Dumbledore's support there was no chance of getting the changes implemented formally as it was not something that the Board of Directors would support. However, they could each encourage it amongst their own students, and spend a little time in the Common room each week to assist the Prefects. Well all accept Minerva. With the Deputy Headmistresses responsibility, and she admitted to taking on a fair portion of the Headmaster's work as well, along with being Head of House and the heavy role of Transfiguration teacher, she was finding it hard to have enough time for even a cursory visit to the Common room every now and then.

"Perhaps you need to ask Bathsheda or Septima to take on the role for you," Pamona suggested.

"I have made that suggestion before and Albus has outright refused every time He says that as the only Gryffindor on staff, it is my responsibility to see to them."

"You are no longer the only Gryffindor on staff," Filius pointed out with a shit-eating smile.

"Who? Oh Filius. I do not believe that Hagrid would be the best option for this. For Merlin's sake, did you see those Skrewts? If that was not a breach on the laws of cross breeding, I don't know what is!" Minerva rose to her friends baiting.

"Perhaps we can all assist," Severus offered, surprising the others." After all, if the point is to create better inter-house relations…."

"Actually, I was speaking of Rolanda," Filius smiled. "I know she is only employed part time; however, I believe she may be amenable to coming on staff full time. If she did then she could take over the Head of House duties and perhaps stand is a substitute when one of us is ill. As I recall she did rather well in all of her subjects."

"Hmmm. Do you really think she might be interested?" Filius nodded. "I'll speak to her about it before making the suggestion to Albus. I must admit it would be a huge load off my shoulders. I know I have not been as diligent in my duties as I should have been." She sighed, "I think I could do with a drink."

"Do you still have that bottle of Fire-whiskey?" Pamona asked.

For a few minutes the only noises were the clinking of crystal glassware and the running of the liquid into it. Finally, they relaxed enough that Minerva felt comfortable asking a question that had been bothering her for some time.

"Do you think that Albus might be…dementing?" she asked hesitantly. The other three froze.

"No," Severus replied, after a moments contemplation. "He is coherent, he knows the time and what is going on in the world. His idiosyncrasies are no worse than they have been in the past. None of his habits have changed. And he can still move well."

"It's just that some of his recent decision seem to be a little…well odd."

"Some of those decisions were not made recently," Severus said, reminding her of Dumbledore's placing Harry with the Dursleys.

"Quite right, however his fixation on Harry Potter and to a lesser extent Miss Granger are alarming."

"Indeed, I have thought the same thing."

"Well, I suggest that we keep an eye on the situation and step in if needed," the Herbology Professor said pragmatically.

"There is not much else to be done at this point. Filius, if you have time over the Summer could you make up a little booklet of things that the Muggleborn students, are not told in their orientation that could still be useful. Like where the entrance to St Mungos is, and how to get into the Ministry. Perhaps a list of books on the workings of the Wizarding world?"

"Certainly. Now might I have another?" he held out his glass hopefully.

There was something to be said for small backwater Muggle towns, Remus thought as he trudged up the road. With all the walking he had done in the area trying to find the town he was seriously considering buying a car and getting his licence, or at least learning how to drive. This run-down little town was just the sort of place he had disappeared into in those horrible years between the end of the first part of the war and Harry's third year. The locals might gossip like no-body's business about a newcomer but while they would watch your every movement, they would not make any comments. Still this time, he was hoping to find someone to talk.

"Oof! Oh, I am so sorry," Remus apologised as he turned a blind corner straight into a dark haired lady.

"Hey! Watch were you're going!" brown eyes glared.

Remus stopped, studying her face, the woman looked back at him.

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"Ah, is there anywhere round here we can get tea?" Remus asked not answering her question.

"Flaherty's up the corner," she pointed.

"Please allow me to buy you a drink to make up for …" Remus smiled and waved his hand vaguely, but she seemed to understand.

"Alright."

She led the way. Her movement was the catalyst to Remus figuring out who the woman was. But Remus did not broach the matter with her until they had ordered and were settled at one of the tables outside the teahouse.

"Marlene what happened to you," he asked with a catch in his voice.

"Who do you think I am?" she asked in confusion.

"Marlene, Marlene McKinnon," Remus said surely.

A puzzled look crept over her face, "What happened to this woman that you think I am?"

"We thought she had died, there was a …." How was he going to explain it? She seemed to have some sort of amnesia, perhaps a head injury during the fight? "There was a fight at your house, all your family were killed. It was assumed you were in the house as well. They set the place on fire afterwards, so we thought that your body had burned when we could not find it."

"How long ago was it?"

"Fifteen years. What happened to you?" he asked gently.

"I don't think I am this Marlene," she said shaking her head. "I was in a car accident some years ago, the memory is hazy, but I remember the sound of glass breaking, and I lost large portions of my memory in the accident. I woke up in hospital in 83."

"I…I am sure you're her. What do you remember of your life before the accident?"

"I remember I had a brother and a rather large black dog," she smiled.

Remus reached into his wallet and pulled out a photo, "Was this…was this your dog?"

He showed her a photo of Padfoot.

"NO!" she snapped, standing up angrily. "No, you can't trick me this way. I don't know who you are but there is no call for you to make fun of me!"

"Wait, I'm not …"

But it was too late she was already gone.

"I don't know what you did to our Janey young man but…"

"I think she is a friend of mine," Remus looked up at the old crone who placed a teapot in front of him. "I swear it."

"Swear it do you? Poor Janey ended up wandering here, after they turned her out of the hospital without so much as a dress of her own. There have been a few over the years who have tried to sweet talk her by pretending to be someone from her past. You'll need some solid evidence if you want to convince her."

"I have photo's at home, hopefully something there will jog her memory," Remus mused.

"I'll wager meeting our Janey, wasn't the reason you came here," the old woman said perceptively.

"No, I'm doing some research into the Riddles and the Gaunts."

"Well I've never heard of the Gaunts before but the Riddles. That's a long story," she said looking pointedly at the teapot and Marlene's unused cup.

"Please feel free," Remus pushed it towards her.

She poured a cup and blew on it noisily. When she spoke again, she told him all the rumours of the wealthy family that lived on the hill. How they had mysteriously died, with no sign of injury on any of their bodies, and how the groundskeeper had been taken for questioning. Just twelve months ago that very same Groundskeeper had disappeared mysteriously in the middle of the night, and now there was no one to keep the property. Now there were lights that mysteriously came and went in the house on the hill. Before they had only been every now and then, but recently it seemed that they were there every night. She claimed it was the ghosts of the dead. With that last proclamation she closed her mouth with a snap.

"Where exactly is this house?" Remus asked curiously.

In Lieu of an answer the old woman looked out of the window. There passed the end of the village green, on a hill that rose up over green fields, was an old Mansion that had clearly seen better days.

"Thank you," Remus said turning back to the woman, but she was gone.

Sirius had booked Remus into the one tiny motel that the Village offered, so he headed there to check in. Only taking a moment to deposit his bag in his room, and tuck the room-key into his pocket, before striding out towards the house.

He felt it, just as he passed the opening in the hedge on to the drive that led up to the house. The distinct tingle of wards, it was not any ordinary vagrants who had made the house their home. Deciding against pushing across the ward line, Remus backed away. It was as he was wandering back towards the village that he came across another break in the Hedge, this time he picked up the illusion that made it appear that the wall of plant life extended in an unbroken line all the way to the little collection of houses. A few detection spells later and Remus determined that there was no alert ward placed on the space, so he ducked through the gap.

Ahead of him stood, and how it was still standing he did not know, the most decrepit cottage he had ever seen, and he had stayed in the odd condemned property a time or two when he was down on his luck. He approached the clearly magical residence with caution, hyper-alert for any movement or magic, but nothing happened until he approached the door. Now that he was close enough Remus could make out the limp body of snake nailed to it. It reared, pivoting on the nail, and hissed at him. A step back and it dropped into flaccid quiescence once more, with a frown Remus hurried away. There were clear magical wards on the property, perhaps he should discuss this one with Sirius. Had Sirius mentioned that Amelia was searching as well? Perhaps it was time to pool their resources. At least now that he knew where the place was it would be a simple matter of apparating back to the site.

"Now," McGonagall looked sternly at the group of six students seated in front of her. "Turn your papers over and begin."

She had set them a small test to check their understanding of the process for the Animagus transformation. Looking for a greater understanding then they had achieved in the past years. Looking down at their assignments while she was waiting for them to complete the task, Minerva had to admit that she was proud of them all. Seldom had she seen a group so dedicated to their learning. Perhaps there was something too this extension work after all. Absent-mindedly marking the paper that lay on her desk, she kept a close eye on the students, in case they had any questions. They did not and one by one they placed their papers on her desk and left the room taking care not to disturb those still working.

Harry Potter was the last one in the room. It appeared he had written his answers out once and then was re-writing them. When he laid his quill down, Minerva asked, "Why did you write it out twice Potter?"

"I didn't Professor."

"I saw you. You wrote the answers out on that piece of parchment you just slipped into your bag."

"Oh," he said pulling out the parchment and unrolling it to show her. "I wrote what I thought were the most important points down here, and then once I was happy with the points, I put them into sentences. I find it helps me to be more organised, so I am less likely to forget things," Harry explained.

"Well, as long as it works for you, just be aware in your OWLs you will have a time limit."

"Yes Professor," Harry, tucked the parchment away again, and stood to leave.

"I have been most pleased with your efforts this year Potter. I have no doubt that Lily and James would be proud of you."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry paused with suspiciously moist looking eyes. "Perhaps you could tell me a bit about them sometime?" he asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately, I am restricted in what I may discuss with my students. However, I believe I may be able to find another way. Leave it with me and I will come back to you with a response, though it may take me a little time."

"Thank you for trying Professor," Harry said, turning to leave the room.

"According to Professor McGonagall," Severus Snape began what was sure to be another rousing speech, "you have all passed her test on the theory of the Animagus transformation. Therefore, today we will commence work on the potion required to elicit the vision of the form you will take. For those of you who can produce a Patronus, while it is likely that they will be the same form, it is not always the case. Though I have not carried the exercise through to completion, I have made and taken the potion before. My own Patronus and Animagus forms are very different."

Snape paused to look at the group, "Be warned this potion is highly volatile, there will be no misbehaving in this class. Should you do so you will be dismissed the room and loose the chance to extend your studies. If you have questions about any of the steps you will ask, before beginning the step. Do you understand?" he glared at them all until they nodded. "There are several ingredients required that are not found in your current potions kit, you will find them in the potions store. You may begin."

Unlike class, there was no stampede towards the potions store. Each teen carefully unpacked their utensils and set up their workstation, wards were meticulously placed, and the methodology checked. Then they began, one at a time to approach the store, each carrying a tray, to gather the extra ingredients.

Severus was relieved, it seemed they were all taking the task very seriously. By the end of the night, when they all placed their cauldrons in the cabinet he had prepared, so that they could wait for the next step in the process, he was marvelling at how calm the evening had been. He had been able to wander amongst the table, providing extra instructions and advice. There was no idle chatter, no miscellaneous ingredients ending up in anyone's cauldrons and no glares across the room.

"You have all done very well. The potion needs a week to stew, return then for your next lesson," he dismissed them.

"Remedial potions Potter! I always knew you were substandard, but even I hadn't thought you were as dumb as that," the blonde boy glanced at the group who had just exited the classroom. "Even Longbottom is better at potions than you," he chortled.

"When did you get back?" Harry snapped in surprise and annoyance at seeing the boy.

"Do we have a problem?" the velvet tones of the Potions Master fell over the group.

"No Professor," both boys said. Severus watched the groups separate. "Mr Malfoy."

"Professor," Draco smirked.

"It is good to see you looking so well, after your…..excursion."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Do be more careful in future," Snape warned, after the group he had been teaching had left. "That last incident was nearly detrimental to the Dark Lords plans. Perhaps a more subtle approach is required."

"I don't need to take advice from you," the boy sneered.

"That is true," Snape acknowledged, "however it may be prudent. I suggest you make your way to the Common Room." Draco bent his head displaying the bare minimum of respect.

Sirius watched the boy leave, wondering if it was the Headmaster or the boy's father who had managed to stop him from being expelled.

The month it would take a month to brew the potion made her skin itch. If only it was the sort of thing that could just be purchased at the apothecary without raising suspicion enquires from the Auror department, completely apart from the fact that there was a warrant out for her arrest. Steam curled off her cauldron as the liquid bubbled sluggishly. This was only the first step in her plan, and she did wish that she could just ask that ridiculous Potions Master to make the brew for her. Surely the man kept some on hand for his Lords work. In the meantime, Delores kept her ears and eyes open picking up all the little pieces of gossip from around the mansion. Wiping perspiration from her brow she smiled, there were so many power plays in progress as the various minions jostled for their Lords favour. Bellatrix Black-Lestrange though, was truly brilliant in her viciousness. The way she threw Crucio's around was a sight to behold, and she did not trust Severus Snape at all.

Delores took the cauldron off the heat and placed it carefully in the specially aerated cupboard, warding it against contamination. It would take another week to stew before the next phase and in that time, she needed to procure the last ingredient. Delores was not sure how she was going to get her hands on that as yet. Perhaps Lucius Malfoy would have an invisibility cloak that she could borrow.

There was a chime that caused her to look up. It signalled the next meeting. As yet she had not been inducted to the Death Eaters so she was not invited, though that did not stop her from eavesdropping when she could. Hopefully when she completed her task she would be accepted into the fold.

She was glad that they were moving out of the dusty old mansion that they had been staying in. Plans were in place to move them to Malfoy Manor, after investigations had proved that the Lestrange, Rookwood, and Goyle manors were being monitored and nobody in their right mind would want to stay at the Pettigrew house with the man's mother. Her current room was barely fit to live in. Still it was better than many of her options, like taking a portkey to the continent. Here at least she was fed by the Malfoy house elves, who had also cleaned and repaired much of the house, improving the situation since she had moved in. She supposed it was at least better than the cell she had been in at the Ministry.

Delores called an elf to clean up the mess she had left in the room that had been converted to a potions lab and demanded another make her some food. With a Half Blood for a father and a muggle for a mother, not that she was telling anyone that, she had never been served by the critters before, so she was going to make the absolute most of the opportunity.

"The action is three slashing movements, it is sharp, like so." A wizened hand demonstrated. "One, two, three. The movement should be smooth."

"Yes Sir," Hermione raised her wand and tried the movement. The hand placed on her wrist guiding her movement.

"Again, I must impress upon you the gravity of using these spells. We, the few who are charged with shepherding the Wizarding populace through the years, take on a heavy responsibility. It is only through diligent study that we can gain the skills we require to look after them all."

"Yes Professor," Hermione nodded dutifully. Pride causing her heart to beat faster. Out of all of them she had been chosen. Her, Hermione Granger, not Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley. This was her time to shine above the rest. She had always known that she was special, this just proved it. Soon all of the Wizarding world would know as well. Just two more years of study and then Dumbledore said that he would officially take her on as his apprentice just as Nicholas Flamel had done for him. Ronald and Harry would have to look up to her then. They would apologise for tossing her aside this year, do what she told them to and finally things would be back to the way they should be.

"Now try again Miss Granger," Dumbledore encouraged. "Yes, that looks better."

"Did Mr Flamel teach you these spells Professor?" she had to ask.

Dumbledore's face twisted into a very strange expression before he said in a tight voice, "No. I do not believe that Nicholas knew such spells. His expertise lay in alchemy. These spells I had to study on my own. And Miss Granger, I do not believe your peers would be very understanding if they discovered that you were studying these spells."

"You're right Professor. What should I tell them?"

"Why nothing Miss Granger, they have no right to be told what you are doing in your spare time," he smiled as she agreed with him. "Now I have another task for you. I need you to find out all you can about Percival Graves."

"Percival," she asked in a strained voice.

"Yes. I believe there is the possibility that he is more then he seems. While Percival has not cast spells on Harry, that does not mean that he is not influencing Harry's behaviour. He has certainly usurped your place in Harry's life." Dumbledore could practically see how she was vibrating with jealousy. It was more incentive for her to follow his direction. "If at all possible, I need you to bring me his wand," Dumbledore's voice dropped in tone.

"His wand Sir? But why?"

"Because, Hermione, a wand can tell us many things about the one who carries it. The core and wood can provide insights into their personality, and the last spells can be coaxed from it. If I am not mistaken, I believe that Mr Graves had been casting many dark spells and these will be displayed for all to see." Dumbledore ignored the obvious hypocrisy.

"Harry would never tolerate….."

"Harry is rather an oblivious boy. Blinded by his new friendship, I do not believe that he would have noticed. He is after all rather uninformed about many aspects of the Wizarding world."

"Perhaps I should educate him," Hermione mused.

"Now is not the time, I'm afraid. Young Harry has a great many responsibilities that he must shoulder in the near future. It would be best not to burden him just yet. Though when the time comes, I am sure you will do an exemplary job."

"Now turn to Chapter six in your text. I believe that it is time for us to work on something different."

A bag tumbled on the floor as its owner fell onto the bed.

"Long day Harry?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah, same as everyone else I guess."

"Nah. Don't think we haven't noticed that you are doing different work in most of your classes, and you've been slipping into Runes and Arithmancy when they don't clash."

"I…." Harry sat up quickly.

"Don't worry," Dean said from where he was sitting on his bed, pulling his books from his bag. "We won't tell Granger."

"Thanks. It's just that…."

"Oh, we know," Seamus said with emphasis. "She's always been a bit of pain, but this year…" he whistled.

"I know she was your friend mate but," Dean shared a glance with Seamus, "well things have been much better for the rest of us since you've finally seen how she was acting."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you know how she pushed Fay on the stairs the other day so that she could get closer to you?" Harry nodded having seen the incident. "Well like that. At meals she would just push into the space near you or Ron, regardless of who else was sitting there. I actually saw her sit on Katie one time."

"Then if you were ahead of her in the corridors, she would push her way through to get to your side, by pinching and punching anyone in the way. Hard enough to leave bruises as well."

"That's beside her behaviour in class which we assume you were already aware of."

"She actually locks the other girls out of the bathroom in the morning so often that they have a standing arrangement with the Sixth years."

"And this year, well let's just say that her understanding of the finer points of ownership have been lacking."

"Is that why?" Harry gestured to his forehead.

"Yeah, and that was only because she tried to get into Percival's trunk. She didn't get anything that time."

"Have the girls learnt how to ward their things?" Harry asked in concern.

"The sixth years taught them some spells, but they think she knows the counters for them."

The door opened, revealing Percival.

"Hey Perce," Harry called. "Do you think you could teach the girls to ward their things? Apparently, _someone_ keeps taking things from their dorm."

"Sure, I don't mind. Perhaps you can get them to come in here?"

"Please," Dean, Seamus and Neville said in chorus.

"Alright, I'll show all of you then," Percival agreed amicably.

"Oh, and I saw you do a spell on a spider the other day," Ron added eagerly, "Can you teach us that too?"

"Sure," Percival smiled clearly amused, as the other boys teased Ron about his fear of spiders. "We'll come up with a list."

The room was dark and quiet ….well it was a quiet as a room full of sleeping teenage boys could be, there was the odd snuffle and snore, but there was nothing out of the ordinary that might alarm Hermione. She almost snorted at how complacent they all were, sleeping peacefully in their beds. Not a care in the world. No clue that outside in the real world there were threats aplenty. Which was the exact reason she had to learn all the spells that Professor Dumbledore could teach her. When they were inevitably faced with the terrors outside the castle walls, she would be there to show them the way.

Before then she had a task to do. She sidled over to the first bed and checked on the occupant. Neville murmured in his sleep causing her to pause for a moment, before he settled, huffing out a soft breath. Stealthily she moved towards her target. Now where would the dratted boy leave his wand. In the light of the moon shining through the window, Seamus and Dean's wands were clearly visible on the little tables to the side of their beds, but Harry and Percival's beds were in the darkest part of the room. Slipping past Harry's bed, she tiptoed closer.

Finally, she stood at the bedside, making sure not to stand between the boy's face and the moonlight. His table was completely in shadow, nothing visible on its surface. Hermione reached out a hand and ran it over the surface lightly to be sure. Not one thing sat on that tabletop. Where could he have left it? Would he have put it away in his trunk? That would be a challenge, still Professor Dumbledore had taught her a few interesting spells designed to break through wards, but could she pull them off at night. Hermione considered the matter. Surely a silencing ward would be enough. No, the Headmaster would not forgive her if she was discovered now. Percival would surely deduce what she was looking for and take greater care. Best if she put it off for later. Maybe there was a sleeping spell she could cast on the boys, because having them in the room when the wand went missing was surely the best alibi for her.

Moving away from the beds she chanced a look down and paused in shock. Harry was in Percival's bed, arms wrapped around the taller boy, like some kind of narcoleptic koala. His head buried under Percival's chin and a leg thrown over the other boy's hip. It was every bit a lovers embrace. She had suspected that they were close and even presumed that they had started dating given the lack of response to the spell she had cast on Ginny, but she had not thought that the relationship had progressed so far. Ha, now she knew exactly how Percival was controlling Harry. He had lured poor love starved Harry in with sex! Harry would have had no defence for it. Merlin knew how much that boy just wanted to be loved. Well now she had another task, shaking her head she crept from the room.

"What did you want to do today?" Percival asked Harry, when they awoke the next morning.

"I want a day off," Harry sighed. "I know that I should review the spells we were learning from Flitwick but…" he shrugged.

"Alright," Percival pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "How about we make a quick trip to Hogsmeade, then come back and look through your parent's trunk. This afternoon I can show the guys how to ward their things and maybe go over the spells for Flitwick. If we don't get enough time, then we can review them tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," Harry said snuggling closer.

"You have to let me go to be able to go to Hogsmeade," Percival teased.

"'S warm," Harry mumbled into his chest.

"Harry James Potter," an obnoxious voice interrupted their quiet moment.

Harry groaned as Hermione continued speaking, he ignored her in favour of trying to bury his face further into Percival's chest. Finally, he lifted his head.

"Do you think if we ignore her, maybe she will go away," he whispered.

"Harry! Get out of that bed right now." She was off again.

Harry sigh, rolled out of the bed and shuffled over to his own, pulling fresh clothes out of his trunk and ambling over to the bathroom, with Hermione following. With his hand on the door he opened it stepped through and pivoted sharply attempting to close it, as she made to step through the opening after him.

"Hermione!" he yelled.

A shrill wail sounded. Growing louder each moment Hermione stood apparently frozen in the door way. Hurried footsteps could be heard outside.

"Well I never!" McGonagall said in surprise as she burst into the room. "What are you doing Miss Granger?"

"I was just trying to talk to Harry, but…"

"If you wanted to speak with Mr Potter then you should have waited in the Common Room, there is no reason for you to be in this dormitory let alone attempting to enter the boy's bathroom! I am afraid that I will have to revoke your nomination as Prefect."

"But Professor, I was talking to Harry and he just got up and walked away."

"He was clearly going to the bathroom Miss Granger and it is entirely inappropriate for you to follow him!"

"But Professor…"

"That is enough Miss Granger. Detention I will advise you of the time. Now out!"

Professor McGonagall shuffled the bushy haired girl from the room.

"At least now I can pee in peace," Harry said in relief shutting the bathroom door.

After the incident with Hermione the rest of the morning had passed rather peacefully. As a group the Fifth year Gryffindors wandered down to Hogsmeade. The girls trying to guess who McGonagall would choose to make the new Prefect. The consensus was that whoever it was would need to watch their back as Hermione was sure to make a scene.

"I doubt McGonagall will get her way," Harry said glumly.

"It's the Head of House's choice Harry," Parvati said.

"Yeah, but Dumbledore will overrule her or convince her to…." He thought for a moment, "put Hermione on probation or something instead."

"Still it's better than nothing. Maybe it will make her behave."

Between them the group spent an exorbitant amount of sweets from Honeydukes, planning to share it during study sessions, and spent an hour drinking Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks before splitting up. The girls deciding the wanted to go to Gladrags, Seamus, Dean and Ron to Zonkos and Percival, Harry and Neville electing to return to the castle.

"Give me your bags and I'll take them back for you," Harry offered, holding his hands out towards the girls, who gratefully offloaded their shopping. They redistributed the bags between the three of them and headed back to the castle.

"I didn't know that a few sweets could be so heavy," Neville complain as he placed the bags he was carrying on the table near his bed. Sorting through his own bag and placing the ones he wanted to keep for himself and placing them in his trunk."I promised Professor Sprout I would go down to the Greenhouses today, so I'll see you at lunch," he excused himself and hurried away.

"Bye Nev," Harry called after him.

The bags were carefully divided and put away before Harry reached deep under his bed and pulled out his trunk to retrieve the shrunken one of his Mother's that was in the locked compartment. Percival carefully set aside the bags that held the other's shopping and then sat of Harry's bed to watch, as Harry enlarged the trunk and placed it on the floor.

Previously Harry had not delved too far into the trunk, merely grabbing the books that were all in the first compartment, with the potions equipment, the same with his fathers. A bubble of excitement welled up from his stomach as he flicked the switch to open the second compartment.

It was filled with clear crystal balls, the smallest of which was on as large as Harry's thumb nail. The biggest, the size of an orange.

"What are they?" he asked Percival in confusion.

"I have no idea," his boyfriend confessed. "I know of no spell that would make these, though they look a little like Remembrall's."

Harry retrieved his mirror.

"Sirius!"

It took a few moments for his father to respond.

"Yes Harry, what do you need?"

"You remember how Dobby found Mum and Dad's trunks?" Sirius nodded. "Well I hadn't had a close look at them until now and we found, well perhaps it would be best if I showed you."

The mirror was faced towards the open compartment.

"Any ideas what they are?"

Sirius frowned, "I'm afraid not. But your mum was looking at getting her charms mastery before they went into hiding. Perhaps it was something she was working on for that."

"You think I should show Flitwick?"

"That's probably your best bet. Oh and Harry, the Goblins have mentioned that you haven't been checking your mail box again. If you're not going to use it then you may as well give it back."

"Sorry, I keep forgetting. I don't like to open it when Hedwig is around because she gets all huffy," he confessed.

"Perhaps you need to learn how to stand up to your bird."

"Shhh," Harry looked around somewhat fearfully, "she'll hear you."

"Right," Sirius chuckled. "Any other issues I can help you with?"

"You weren't any help at all!"

"I'll take that as a no, then shall I? Goodbye boys."

The mirror returned to showing Harry's reflexion.

"I guess we take them down to Flitwick then," Harry said getting ready to shrink the trunk.

"Actually I think you need to check your mailbox. It does not do to irritate the Goblins."

"Right," Harry pulled it out of his trunk. "Do you think I should leave it out? Perhaps if I can see it I'll remember to check. I was just worried that someone might take it or get into it."

"The Goblins will have spelled it so that it is fairly indestructible, can only be able to be opened by you and will return to you if lost or stolen," Percival said.

"Right, on the table it goes then."

"And….."

"Fine," Harry said rolling his eyes. He pushed the button to open the box. "Oh!"

There was perhaps twenty letters contained within.

"Ah, would the Goblins have checked all these letters before putting them in here?" he asked remembering the bubotuber puss Hermione had received in Fourth year.

"Yes, and they would be insulted if they knew you had asked."

"Ok," Harry pulled them out of the box and shut it again. He began flipping through the letters, it was not until he reached the last one that he had some sort of explanation for what had happened.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We were recently questioned by the head of the DMLE. It seems she had some concerns about your living arrangements prior to this year and has been collating evidence to pursue the matter on your behalf. During the discussions it was raised that you had never received mail from us, even though you had been sent your statements as per our by-laws. Amelia Bones has recently returned to us with an explanation. As suspected someone had placed wards on you that re-directed any mail addressed directly to you to another location. The spell has now been removed, in favour of one that will send the mail to the bank, and as part of the service of supplying the mail box, Gringotts has agreed to monitor your mail (there will be an extra monthly fee of one knut for the service). Please advise if you are happy with this arrangement._

_Striknott_

"Seems like a sensible idea," Percival said.

"Yeah," Harry said reaching for a quill and jotting down a reply and an apology for his tardiness. "I suppose that means that I have to go through this mail then," he winced.

"Best get it out of the way so that it does not build up." Percival looked at the date on Striknott's letter. "This is your mail for one week. Then when Dobby finds the rest, you'll have fourteen years worth to catch up on." He laughed as Harry paled. "Don't worry, I am sure Seraphina would be happy to help you write a form letter that will cover off on most things."

"Argh," Harry reached for the first letter.

It did not take long to open the letters and sort them into groups. One for those who were angry at Harry, for saying the Riddle was back, they called him delusional and an attention seeker, but at least they weren't cursed. These were bundled up and sent to Samuel McMillan to be given a formal warning that such behaviour would not be tolerated. The next was three business proposals, two were rather unrealistic but the third from a recently graduated Muggleborn wanting to start her own business, Harry thought was promising. These were sent back to Striknott to check. They could then be sent to McMillan to arrange a contract if Striknott thought they were a viable investment. The last, well the last group was somewhat confusing to Harry. There were ten letters there witches and one wizard who were proposing…well Harry was not sure what they were proposing. Though he did pick up on the one that was proposing marriage.

"Ah…..form letter," he asked Percival with a slightly terrified look on his face.

With a chuckle Percival quickly wrote a note to Seraphina and sent it through the box.

"Right now that is done, can we go!" Harry asked in exasperation, clearly the wait had been wearing on him.

"Alright, shrink the trunk and we will take it with us."

The Marauders Map showed that Filius Flitwick was in his office and not the staff room.

"Professor?" Harry enquired as he tapped on the door.

"Ah yes Harry. Been practicing have you? How goes the patronus?"

"Yes, I can do it most of the time without speaking now, but I don't know how it would go it there were really dementors around."

"Good, good. And you Mr Graves."

"All good Sir."

"Well, if it was not for additional assistance. What can I help you with?"

"Sir, I recently was given a trunk that contained some of my mother's things and we found something strange. Sirius thought that you might know what they are given that he said she was going to apprentice to you if…"

"Ah, yes. I believe this is a discussion we should not have in the hall. Come in," the diminutive professor stepped to the side, allowing them in to his office. "Now just hold on a second."

With a wave, the portrait on his wall froze.

"Continue," he smiled.

"Right," Harry stared at the portrait for a moment.

"That's Rowena Ravenclaw, we tend to keep it a secret that there is a portrait of her in the castle. But frozen as she is now she can't detect anything going on in the room," he reassured.

"Ok," Harry withdrew the trunk from his pocket, enlarged it, and opened the second compartment revealing the clear balls.

"Oh My!" Flitwick clasped his hand together in front of his chest. "I believe she did it! Oh my clever girl."

"But what are they professor?"

"Your mother was one of my best….no she was my best student. I am not to proud to say that even though as a teacher I am not supposed to have favourites, she was mine. As you have been told she was to be my apprentice, I had given her the paperwork to sign, when she disappeared."

Harry delved into the compartment, "Is this it?" He withdraw several sheets of parchment.

"Yes," Flitwick gave a small sad smile. "We had been discussing the possibility of modifying the spell used to create remembralls so that they could be used to save memories. Not to get you too excited but I believe that is what these are. Your mother's memories."

"How…how would we…I?"

The look of desire was so strong in the green eyes that matched the ones he used to know, that it made water well in the professor's eyes.

"When we last spoke she was unsure. I would suggest first trying to hold it in your hand and squeeze it gently as if it were a remembrall."

Harry pulled out one the size of a golf ball and closed his fist around it. Then shook his head.

"Hmm, it could be like the prophecy orbs?" Flitwick wondered.

"You can mean to smash it?" Percival asked slightly horrified.

"Only as a last resort, after you have searched for her notes," Flitwick said.

"What about like a crystal ball in divination?" Harry asked.

"It's as good a thought as any, give it a go."

Harry held the ball loosely in his hands and attempted to look into his depths, for a moment he thought he saw a figure swirl through it, but disappointedly realised it was Flitwick's reflection.

"I just….it's something of hers, you know?" Harry shrugged. "Just…." he rested his head on the ball he held in his hands. "I….."

And there she was, breathtakingly beautiful, she was standing in what must have been the lounge-room of their house.

"Test ball number fourteen. So hopefully this works. Filius I think I have the basic spell down, but then there is the matter of transferring the memory into it. This test is using it as a recording device so that the memory is recorded directly into the ball. I do believe I have created a spell that will allow the transfer of a previously retrieved memory into the ball. Any feedback or advice will be appreciated. End of test."

Her figure paused and then…'Test ball number….' it started again.

Tears rolled down, reddened cheeks.

"Harry!"


	27. Chapter 27

That first day, they looked through the orbs was not the last time Harry cried. Every afternoon they made the trek back to Flitwick's office to look at more of the memories Lily had left behind. It gave Harry an insight into his parent's life after they had gone into hiding. He had learned that Lily was a truly remarkable witch. In built Muggle curiosity combined with ingenuity meant that she saw magic and spells in a completely different way, much like Harry and Runes. Instead of just accepting that something could not be done, she assumed first of all that it could because…well, Magic! She was not often proven wrong.

What Harry liked most were the incidental glimpses into their lives. The times when James would blunder into the memory looking for his glasses (they were on top of his head), wand (tucked behind his ear) or broom (in the broom cupboard). Or where his father's voice could be heard calling out to Lily from an adjacent room and Lily forgetting herself would yell right back. Then came the day when Harry noticed the slight swell of Lily's abdomen. It became a rush to find and view all the memories of her developing pregnancy, until finally there was a bassinet in the corner of the room. For the first time Harry felt truly connected to his parents, understanding what the lack of them meant for his life, and he began to grieve their loss.

"Mr Potter," Filius Flitwick was sitting opposite Harry as they placed the last of the balls back into the trunk. "I understand that while you are certainly proficient at charms, that it is not something you are truly passionate about. The spells that Lily has created could be used to posthumously have her granted with her Charms Mastery, if you give me permission to have them published."

"But sir," Harry glanced at the trunk, these were memories of his mother and he wanted to guard them jealously and keep them for himself.

Filius raised a hand to forestall Harry's words of denial, "I am not talking about all of them. I believe several should be added to the Potter Grimoire. There are however a couple that are a serious advancement on current healing spells, these I would encourage you to share."

"The Grimoire is currently missing," Harry frowned at the admission. "It was removed without permission, after my parent's deaths."

"Then Lily's spells could be used to start a new one. Your runic work can then be added. Between the pair of you, you already have a wonderful foundation. When the original is returned to you, they can be combined. Or you can keep it as a second volume for specialist spells."

"Is something special required?" Harry asked curiously.

"Oh goodness no. It's quite a simple ritual, done on the night of the new moon. New beginnings and all. I would think that Sirius would be able to take you through it. Outdoors on one of the Ley lines would be best too."

"Right, I'll talk to him about it. Thanks for your help Professor. I think, I would like you to do…. whatever it is you have to do to have Mum given her Mastery."

"Well let's go through these memories again and pull out the ones we need. It is usual to present three new spells. We will need one where the workings are written up in her journals. However, given that she cannot present the full work, a couple of extra spells will be needed. I think five in total should be sufficient. We'll include the one where she shows the Arithmancy behind the spell, in her journal."

"The nerve healer?" Flitwick nodded. "How about the Limb regrowing spell?"

"Yes, and perhaps the baby monitoring spell."

"Oh, what about the one for removing curse scars?"

"Hmmm, and lastly the ultimate wound healer," Flitwick grinned in pride at his former students work. "Now don't you worry; I will take care of everything. When spells like this are created often the creator gets a monetary compensation for the work, I will ensure that it's…"

"No! I think Mum would have liked it best if it was put into researching a cure for Lycanthropy. She had a potion that she was working on…."

"Have you shown it to Severus?"

"Not as such, but I gave a copy of her potions journal to him and it was in there."

"Well I will speak to Severus about it. I always felt that his skills might be better off used outside of the classroom."

Harry could not disagree with that.

"How was the test?" Lord Voldemort demanded the moment his most loyal were kneeling in front of him, Bellatrix remained standing by the door.

"Too aggressive, My Lord," Nott senior bowed his head. "Theo reported that the usual confrontation between Draco and Potter escalated to violence alarmingly quickly."

"That is disappointing," Voldemort raised his wand, "I want thinking fighters not mindless drones, Crucio."

Nott arched his back in pain, managing not to scream, "Perhaps Severus Snape could make adjustments to it?" he gasped, when the spell was released.

Bellatrix stiffened.

Red eyes turned on her, "Speak your mind Bellatrix."

She preened under the attention, "I do not trust one who dangles like a basket from the arm of Albus Dumbledore."

"Even if it was I, that asked him to dangle so?"

"My Lord," she lowered her eyes and dropped her head submissively. Then she looked up through her lashes, "Surely this potion is not so important as to take the risk?"

"With this potion, I will create an army of witches and wizards, all dedicated to our cause. This is but the first step in…."

"But Draco…."

"What spell did Draco cast?" Voldemort snapped to Nott.

"The Entrail Expelling curse."

"And how was it cast?"

"Well, My Lord. Our Auror reported that had it hit, it would have been lethal. Additionally," he hastened to add, "because the remnants of a potion were in his blood it was deemed that he had not acted of his own accord. Therefore, he escaped charge."

"Wonderful," Lord Voldemort smiled beatifically, "My dear Bella, you have been training the boy. Has he managed to cast it before now?"

"No," she admitted grudgingly. "I would have thought that he would have needed his core to develop more first., and he is no killer."

"Yesssss. Too often my beloved Death Eaters, enter the battle to freeze at the last moment, lacking the dedication required to defeat their opponent. The passion it gave him added the power he needed. When the potion is perfected none will be lacking, Mudbloods will fall before them like wheat to the scythe."

Bellatrix began to giggle.

"Do you think someone has spoken to her?" Alicia hissed at Ron as they watched Hermione, calmly assisting a second year to sort through the elective options.

"McGonagall was planning on …" he hurriedly looked away as Hermione glanced up at them and narrowed her eyes. It seemed Harry had been right, the Headmaster had over-ruled McGonagall's decision on Hermione's Prefects status. The girl had dutifully attended meetings and done her rounds, for the last week.

"Right well, I've got to head to rounds," Alicia stood.

"It is an annoying necessity," Ron replied, pulling out the latest review questions for Defence Against the Dark Arts. "Oi, Harry!" he called spotting his friend helping one of the Creevey brothers. They were so alike that he could not tell which it was until he moved closer. "Hi Dennis."

"Hey," the blonde head bent back over the parchment, quill scribbling quickly, did not look up.

"You've got it Dennis, just a bit more practice for consistency. Flitwick says that you need a thousand repetitions of something before you can consider yourself proficient at it."

"A thousand!" Dennis gasped in horror, head snapping to Harry. "But…"

"Not to worry. This is school, you only need to show them how well you have learnt it. You need to know the theory and be able to perform the spell in a maximum of three tries. Currently you are getting them in two, which is a pass. A bit more practice and you'll have them every time." He squeezed the boy's shoulder reassuringly and stood.

"Thanks Harry. I've got to go," Dennis said, scrambling to his feet as well.

"Where are you off to its nearly curfew?" Ron asked.

"Um, I needed some help with Arithmancy, and Hermione was the only one free at this time." He glanced cautiously over to where she was still sitting on the floor, the second year having just left.

"Right, let us know how that goes for you. Percival should be back shortly if you have any remaining questions." They watched him wander the short distance over to Hermione, who smiled at him as he sat down.

"How long do you think it will last?" Ron asked dubiously.

"Who's to say? The threat of losing her Prefects status might be enough to get her back on track. She was very stung up on getting it."

"So was I," Ron admitted.

"Yeah but at least you've been living up to the role."

"It's been bloody hard work. Sometimes I wish I didn't have it."

"Well, given you have rounds tomorrow, you'd best get your homework done now." Harry said offering his friend no sympathy.

"Fine!" Ron turned to his parchment, thinking forlornly of his chess set sitting unused up in his trunk.

Things were going well, right up until the point that someone, a highly stressed Seventh year, mentioned the 'E' word.

"We have what?" Hermione cried.

"Three weeks until the Exams," the seventh-year repeated.

"But I thought that we had five weeks!"

"For everyone else yes, but the OWL and NEWT exams are earlier," Katie Bell explained patiently, the Seventh year having turned back to her books already.

"But I still have so much revision to do!" Hermione whined in a panic.

"Hermione, if you've been studying consistently throughout the year, there really is no reason to panic now. Just review your notes from the previous years after you complete your homework," Katie made an attempt to reassure the girl.

"They examine us on previous years' work?" Hermione asked wild eyed.

"Yeah," Katie frowned. "Of course. OWLs are to assess how much you have learned already. How are you going to show that if they don't examine it?"

"But I didn't bring my old books and notes with me!" Hermione asked, panicked.

"Well then hopefully one of your friends will lend you theirs," Katie shrugged.

"But…"

"There is also a library full of books, just three floors down, so there's no need to stress. Most people just leave all their schoolbooks in their trunks."

"Nobody told me! How was I supposed to know? My trunk was too full of…." she paused.

"Not my fault," Katie said. "Anyway, I believe I have some homework of my own to get done." The chaser wandered off.

Hermione watched her for a moment, glanced around the common room before racing up the stairs.

'Parvati is sure to have her notes, I can just copy those,' Hermione mused as she ducked into her dorm. Scrambling quickly under Parvati's bed for her trunk. This time the word on her forehead was spelt out in glitter letters. Needless to say she did not get the notes.

"Sirius!" Remus called as he entered Grimmauld place.

"In here," the dark-haired man replied. "Did you find anything?" Sirius looked up from the paper he was reading as Remus entered the kitchen.

"Yeah, the locals pointed out the old Riddle property and the manor house is warded up the whazoo. I'm not sure if they'll be using it for long to be honest. It's pretty run down, and I can't imagine the likes of Nott and Malfoy wanting to stay there when they have their own manors."

"You didn't get close enough to have a look inside?"

"No, but interestingly there was another warded property in the area. It looked to be abandoned. Even I would have thought twice about staying there."

"Do you think it is related?"

"Well, there was a snake nailed to the front door, and it was charmed enough to rise up and hiss. I'd guess it's probably the Gaunt house."

"Huh, we might need a Parselmouth then."

"Yeah. I think it's time we had a word to Amelia to see what she had found out."

"Alright, I'll arrange an appointment through Seraphina. Dumbledore is less likely to find out that way." Sirius looked over at his friend and noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.

"Something else happened?"

"You could say that. I..uh….I found her. She denied it but I am sure that it was her."

"Who Remus?"

"Marlene."

Sirius dropped his teacup.

In a whirl wind of classes, homework and extra lessons the OWLs grew closer. The Gryffindors had won the Quidditch cup in a clean sweep, to nobody's surprise. Ron and the other Prefects had a hard time of it, trying to keep a lid on the growing underground trade in aids to memory, concentration and wakefulness which had sprung up targeting the Fifth and Seventh years. Even the twins had suggested that they had a product that they were testing but it left their volunteers (themselves at this point) with a rather unfortunate rash in a most uncomfortable place, and they were not sure how long it was going to last, even if the elixir did seem to help them concentrate.

Ron looked dubiously at the bottle of Baruffio's Brain Elixir that had been he offered by Ravenclaw Sixth-year, Eddie Carmichael, who swore it was solely responsible for the nine 'Outstanding' OWLs he had gained the previous summer and was offering a whole pint for a mere twelve Galleons.

"How about," Ron said, looking sternly at Eddie, "we go and ask Professor Snape to have a look and if he confirms that this is Baruffio's Brain Elixir, I won't stop you from selling it?"

"No, there's no need to get Snape involved," Eddie's hand flicked out to snatch back the bottle, but Ron used his greater reach to hold it out of the way, while Harry sent a patronus to Snape.

"What seems to be the problem Mr Weasley."

"Eddie here claims to be selling bottles of Baruffio's Brain Elixir, but it looks to me like a rather poorly made cheering concoction." He passed the bottle over.

Snape held the bottle to the light, popped the cork and smelt it, before swirling the liquid in the bottle.

"Not quite, Mr Weasley. I believe it was an attempted Wit-sharpening potion, which unfortunately has had dried hellebore added instead of the mint. It is now quite the toxic combination. Mr Carmichael, I believe we will be needing a word with your Head of House." Bottle in hand Snape frog marched the unlucky Eddie up the corridor.

"Well that's one down," Harry commented.

"I don't know, I could have used that," Seamus muttered from behind them.

"Seamus," Percival said, "Hellebore is a known emetic. So, the only thing it might have worked for is a cleansing potion."

"Oh!"

"Yes, Oh."

"Nearly as bad as the powdered Dragon's claw that I confiscated from Harold Dingle," Ron sighed wearily.

"Dingle has powdered Dragon's claw?" said Seamus excitedly. "That's supposed to give your brain a real boost."

"Not this stuff. I remember some of the things the twins were mucking around with last summer, so I was able to identify it," Ron said grimly.

"What was it?" Dean asked curiously.

"Dried Doxy droppings."

Seamus flushed green, "Right guess I'll get back to studying then."

"Good idea."

They received their examination timetables and details of the procedure for the OWLs in their next transfiguration lesson.

"As you can see," Professor McGonagall told the class as they copied down the dates and times of their exams from the board, "your OWLs are spread out over two successive weeks. You will sit theory in the morning and the practice in the afternoons. Your practical Astronomy will, of course, take place at night. Now I must warn you that the most stringent anti-cheating charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall, as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs and Self-Correcting Ink. Every year, I am afraid to say, seems to harbour at least one student who thinks that he or she can get around the Wizarding Examinations Authority's rules. I can only hope that it is nobody in Gryffindor. Cheating will be punished most severely."

"Please Professor," said Hermione, her hand in the air, "when will we find out our results?"

"An owl will be sent to you sometime in July," said Professor McGonagall.

"Excellent," said Dean in an audible whisper, "so we don't have to worry about it till the holidays."

It was a strange unfamiliar feeling but, Harry hoped he would do well enough to make Sirius proud. He imagined waiting in the kitchen of Grimmauld place for everyone to be gathered, maybe Seraphina would be there, so that he and Percival could open their results together.

Their first examination, Theory of Charms, was scheduled for Monday morning. All of the fifth years had gathered in the common room to study. Hermione asked everyone to test her and eventually Harry gave in. He regretted it almost immediately. She was very agitated and kept snatching the book from him to check that she had got the answer completely right, finally hitting him hard on the nose with the sharp edge of Achievements in Charming, when she thought he was not giving her the correct answer.

"Why don't you just do it yourself?" he said firmly, handing the book back to her, eyes watering.

Meanwhile Ron was reading five years' worth of Charms notes with his fingers in his ears, his lips moving soundlessly; Seamus Finnigan was lying flat on his back on the floor, reciting the definition of a Substantive Charm while Dean checked it against _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_: the girls who were practicing basic Locomotion Charms, were making their pencil cases race each other around the group (Lily Moon won), with Percival asking them questions at random. When the race was over, he and Harry asked each other questions out of the Charms textbooks.

Dinner was a subdued affair that night. Harry and Ron did not talk much. Hermione on the other hand, kept putting down her knife and fork and diving under the table for her bag, from which she would seize a book to check some fact or figure. After their first attempt to prompt her to eat, they left her to it. Suddenly her fork slid from limp fingers and landed with a loud tinkle on her plate, drawing their attention to her.

"Oh, my goodness," she said faintly, staring at the Entrance Hall. "Is that them? Is that the examiners?"

Harry and Ron whipped around on their bench. Through the doors to the Great Hall they could see McGonagall and Dumbledore standing with a small group of mostly ancient looking witches and wizards. McGonagall appeared to be enquiring after the identity of one of them.

"Shall we go and have a closer look?" said Ron.

Harry and Percival nodded, and they hastened towards the double doors into the Entrance Hall, slowing down as they stepped over the threshold to walk sedately past the examiners. Harry thought Professor Marchbanks must be the tiny, stooped witch with a face so lined it looked as though it had been draped in cobwebs; Professor McGonagall was speaking to her deferentially. Professor Marchbanks seemed to be a little deaf; she was answering McGonagall very loudly considering they were only a foot apart."

"Yes dear, this is Mafalda Hopkirk, unfortunately one of our examiners has fallen ill, so we've had to pull her in specially for this." She reached out and patted a nervous looking blonde, who was significantly younger than the others, on the arm.

Harry and Ron dragged their feet up the marble staircase as slowly as they dared. With Harry saying, "I hope I don't get her, she's the one who sent that letter about the magic use last summer."

"Tea would be lovely," Hopkirk was saying, when she gave a little stumble and reached out a hand, holding fast to Dumbledore's beard to prevent herself from falling.

"Oof!"

"Oh…oh…oh I'm so sorry Headmaster," she babbled. "I'm terribly clumsy! Sorry."

"Think nothing of it my dear," Dumbledore soothed, smoothing down his beard with one hand. "How about we go into the Great Hall and we get you that tea. New situations can be quite nerve wracking, can't they? Who knows, once you have done this one set of Exams might find you enjoy it." Eyes twinkling, he led them into the Hall.

It was an uncomfortable sort of evening. Everyone was trying to do some last-minute revising, but nobody seemed to be getting very far. Harry went to bed early but then lay awake for what seemed like hours. He remembered his careers consultation with McGonagall, while Umbridge was still in residence. It had been a farce. Harry did not have a clue what career he wanted. Though a great many people had pushed him towards being an Auror. With Umbridge there he had not been able to have any sort of deep and meaningful conversation with his Head of House. In the end he had said Auror just because…well because he knew that was what Percival had been. Though they had not had a chance to discuss if he wanted something different for his life this time, Harry supposed it did not matter what they both did. Something with Runes, or perhaps Spell Creation, would be fascinating. Though both Healing and teaching were interesting as well. There were just too many choices and if he wanted to keep his options open, he needed to do well on his OWLs. Eventually it was Percival, alerted by Harry's tossing and turning, sliding into the bed beside him, wrapping him deeply in a hug, that eased him towards sleep.

Harry was not the only student staring glumly at their porridge the morning that the OWLs were to begin. Stomach churning violently and threatening to rebel should he even attempt to put anything in it, he wished he were outside in the beautiful sunshine. None of the fifth years talked very much. Parvati was practicing incantations under her breath while the saltshaker in front of her twitched; Lavender and Ron were copying out their notes again, writing so fast that the letters were mere blurs on the page; and Neville kept dropping his knife and fork and knocking over the marmalade.

"Come on you have to eat. Our first exam is in an hour," Percival, who was a calm as ever, coaxed Harry, with a nudge to his side.

Once breakfast was over, the fifth- and seventh years milled around in the Entrance Hall, while the other students went off to lessons. Ron, Harry and Percival were overwhelmed with the number of second- and third years who wished them luck, as they passed.

At nine-thirty, they were called forward by class to re-enter the Great Hall, which had been re-arranged. More than a hundred smaller desks had replaced the four house tables, all facing the staff-table end of the Hall where Professor McGonagall stood facing them. When they were all seated and quiet, she said, "You may begin," and turned over an enormous hourglass on the desk beside her, on which there were also spare quills, bottles of ink and rolls of parchment.

Harry turned over his paper, his heart thumping hard - three rows to his right and four seats ahead was Percival, his head already bent over his parchment and quill flying across the page. Harry lowered his eyes to the first question: a) Give the incantation and b) Describe the wand movement required to make objects fly. He had a fleeting memory of a club soaring into the air and landing loudly on the thick skull of a troll…. suddenly the exam did not seem as daunting. Smiling slightly, he bent over the paper and began to write.

"Well, that wasn't too bad, was it?" Hermione asked in a loud and slightly anxious voice in the Entrance Hall two hours later, as she clutched the exam paper to her chest. "I'm not sure I did myself justice on Cheering Charms, I just ran out of time. Harry did you put in the countercharms for hiccoughs? Do you even know it? I wasn't sure whether I ought to, it felt like too much. I noticed you finished before the bell," she said to Harry. "Did you forget something, do you think? Or was it just that you didn't know the answers to a few questions? I know that on question twenty-three….."

Before she could get any further Harry interrupted, "Not that it is any of your business, but I answered every question Granger."

"Well, you can't have answered them with all the detail required if….."

"I will leave that to the examiners to decide thank you very much."

His response was curt making it clear that he did not want to discuss the matter any further, but Hermione still opened her mouth to continue."

"If you had just let me…."

"Listen Granger," Ron said bluntly, "we've been through this before….we're not going through every exam afterwards, it's bad enough doing them once. If you want to cross examine your answers, go find one of the Ravenclaws."

Hermione gave a little sniff and muttering something about how ungrateful they were, moved away.

"That wasn't very nice, Ron," Neville chided the red head.

"What?"

"Well what did those poor Ravenclaws every do to you?" he nodded to where Hermione had attached herself to Terry Boot and Padma Patil, talking very fast.

The fifth years ate lunch with the rest of the school (the four house tables reappearing for the lunch hour), then they trooped off into the small chamber beside the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical examination. As small groups of students were called forwards in alphabetical order those left behind muttered incantations and practised wand movements, occasionally poking each other in the back or eye by mistake.

Percival was called, and Harry gave him a quick kiss for luck before he left the chamber with Hermione, Anthony Goldstein, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass. Students who had already been tested did not return afterwards, so Harry had no idea how Percival had done.

"He'll be fine. Just remember how impressed Flitwick was when he could produce a wandless, wordless patronus," Ron pointed out. "I bet he scores top of the year."

Ten minutes later, Professor Flitwick called out, "Parkinson, Pansy - Patil, Padma - Patil, Parvati - Potter, Harry."

Good luck, mate," Ron said quietly. "Remember all that practice we did, you'll be fine."

"Yeah, you too," Harry nodded.

He walked into the Great Hall, clutching his wand so tightly his hand shook.

"Professor Tofty is free, Potter," squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was standing just inside the door. He pointed Harry towards what looked to be the very oldest and baldest examiner who was sitting behind a small table in a far corner, a short distance from Professor Marchbanks, who was halfway through testing Draco Malfoy.

"Potter is it?" said Professor Tofty, consulting his notes and peering over his pince-nez at Harry as he approached. "The famous Potter?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry distinctly saw Malfoy throw a scathing look at him; the wine-glass Malfoy had been levitating fell to the floor and smashed.

"Ah, can't say I deserve to be famous, Sir, I believe that was all my mother. I'm just another student," his voice shook a little and he gave a nervous smile.

The quavery old voice said, "No need to be nervous. Now, if I could ask you to take this egg cup and make it do some cartwheels for me."

Harry smiled genuinely then remembering the dancing pineapples from first year. He could do this.

On the whole, Harry felt it went very well. At least his levitation charm was certainly better than Malfoy's. He had nearly mixed up the Colour change and Growth charms but remembered a prank Fred and George had pulled at the last moment, so he was able to stop and cast the right spell on the rat he was supposed to be turning orange just in time.

There was no time to relax that night, they went straight to the common room after dinner and submerged themselves in revision for Transfiguration; Percival made them stop (over the shrill voice of Hermione extorting them to continue working) a half hour before bedtime, to relax. He said it would help them all sleep better. Certainly, having a rousing game of Exploding snap in the dorm, released some of the tension that had been building and they felt better for it the next day.

Wednesday was Herbology, Thursday Defence Against the Dark Arts. Here Harry knew he not only passed but passed well. He had been asked to demonstrate his Patronus and Professor Tofty had laughed in delight, before he dismissed Harry, with a jovial 'Well done'.

On Friday morning, Harry sat at the breakfast table, writing out notes with one hand a piece of buttered toast in the other.

"What exam do you have today then?" Hermione asked from the other side of the table.

"Ancient Runes," Percival answered as if she had asked him.

"But Harry doesn't," she pointed out smugly.

"I tested into fifth year Runes just after Easter Hermione," Harry said quietly.

"Harry you need to stop lying like this. You know full well your electives are Divination and Care of Magical Creatures," she glared. It seemed that the stress of exams had pushed her past the point of reason.

"Well, I guess we will see when I turn up at the exam then won't we. If my name is on the list then clearly, I am in the class," Harry snapped back sarcastically.

Quick as a snake she stretched out a hand and slapped him across the face, so hard his head snapped to the side with an audible crack. "You just need to do as you're told…"

"Miss Granger! Detention this evening with me," Snape barked from the other side of the room.

"But Sir, Harry….." she whined, going so far as to stomp her foot.

"But nothing Miss Granger," McGonagall's voice sounded in support of Severus Snape. "We do not resolve disagreements with violence!"

Turning to the surly Potion's Master she added, "Would you please provide that memory at the next Board of Governors meeting. I have been unable to convince Albus that she is not suited to the Prefects position. Every time I try and discipline her, he over-rules it or takes the detention himself."

"I will make arrangements."

Hermione ignored the teachers in favour of continuing ranting at Harry, who Percival had pulled to his feet and was escorting from the hall.

"Don't walk away from me Harry!" Hermione ran after them and grabbed him by the arm.

Like bending a dry branch, something in Harry finally snapped, "Back off Granger," he growled, and turned towards her, pulling his arm out of her grasp. "What I do is no longer any business of yours. You are no friend of mine and I would appreciate it if you kept your opinion on my life to yourself, because, I do not care what you think! The only reason I did not retaliate to your physical abuse is because it's not appropriate to hit a lady. To be honest you're fast approaching the point where I will no longer consider you a lady! You have been warned." Spinning around quickly he stalked away, leaving a stunned Hermione behind, mouth open like a codfish.

"Well you can't say that you did not have that coming Granger," Neville said as he walked past.

Something seethed and roiled in her gut as she watched, the boy she had considered one of her best friends walk away. Even now she knew he had not meant the ending of their friendship. Harry had always had a bit of a bad temper; it would blow like Mount Vesuvius but when he calmed down, he would be sorry and apologise. However, the Headmaster was not going to be pleased, if only she had kept a hold on her temper, it's just that Harry pushed her so. There was only one way she knew that she could make up for it and that was to bring the Headmaster Percival's wand. Over the past month she had carefully observed Percival in class trying to memorise every knot and turn of his wand. Then she had stol…confiscated one of the Twin's fake wands and transfigured it into what she felt was a reasonable facsimile of the original. The question was how she was going to be able to get the wand from the boy! On the upside, if she could swap it at the right time, it would show Harry just how poor a wizard Percival Graves actually was, perhaps the humiliation of failing the rest of his OWLs would encourage him to return to his country of origin. Even better with their names so similar, she would get to witness his downfall. She giggled at the thought, completely forgetting that they had already completed the exams for the heavily wand-based subjects.

"Let me see what that harpy has done to you," Percival coaxed Harry once they had reached the kitchens.

Harry looked at his boyfriend, an angry red handprint marring his skin.

"Dobby!" Percival called.

"Yes, Master Percival Sir," the little elf appeared at their side.

"Can you go and ask Professor Snape…"

"Ask me what, Mr Graves?" the Potions Master said from behind them, having followed them from the hall.

"If you had a poultice Harry could use Sir?"

A jar was pulled out from the voluminous sleeves of his robe, "We cannot have him late for his examination now, can we?"

"Thank you, Sir?" Harry said trying not to move his jaw as Percival coated it and his cheek with the paste.

"Stop moving!" Percival chided. "Now are you ready? We do not have long before they will be calling us in."

"It's as good as it's going to get," Harry said, opening and closing his mouth experimental.

"The mutt said to wish you luck," Snape said as he walked with them to the door.

"Thank you. I'll call him on the mirror tonight," Harry said.

"Good, his whinging has been annoying me," Snape smirked. "It would not do for us to walk into the foyer together."

"Right well you go ahead, Sir," Percival grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him back.

"Do not be late!"

"Tell me honestly, are you alright?" Percival said softly, rubbing a thumb across Harry's jaw.

"It's ok?"

"There is no harm in putting this off and doing the exam at the ministry over the summer."

"I know, but after…..well I don't want her to think she won."

"Don't let what she thinks influence your decision," Percival, tipped Harry's chin up slightly and bent in to press a gentle kiss against his lips, before drawing back, eyes searching Harry's face for any sign of discomfort.

Harry, reached his hand up, hooked around Percival's neck to draw him back down. Needless to say, they were very nearly late, ducking through the doors to the Great Hall a moment before they were pulled shut and sliding into the last two seats at the back.

It seemed that Hermione was not happy with her Ancient Runes exam, telling anyone who would listen that she had confused two of the Runes. As a result, she was in a foul mood for the entire weekend. The rest of the fifth years retreated to the quidditch pitch to study, in order to avoid her.

It had taken nearly a week before Amelia was free to join them, however they had finally gathered at Grimmauld Place.

"We suspect this one was one of the first if not the first he made; in which case he was still very young. I guess he would have protected it with the equivalent of spells learnt at Hogwarts but translated into Parseltongue and he is arrogant enough to believe nobody else would be able to undo them, so I do not think he has been back to change them. At least there is no sign that anyone has disturbed the preservation wards since they were placed in about 1943," Remus was saying to Amelia Bones.

"The Department of Mysteries has come up with this," Amelia pulled a round disk on a long chain out of her pocket.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, looking at it in confusion.

"Do you know what a muggle compass is?"

"It's a device that shows which direction North is, kind of like a one-use Point-me spell," Remus explained to his pureblooded friend.

"That's right. This works in a similar fashion, the arrow on its face is drawn towards Tom Riddle's soul and therefore his Horcruxes. For example, I can tell that there is one in…. that direction," Amelia pointed towards the staircase, with a frown.

Sirius indicated for her to lead the way. She walked up the stairs and towards the Black Lord's personal study stopping outside the door.

"Lord Black may I enter?" she asked Sirius formally.

Sirius opened the door and stepped through it before inviting her in.

"The arrow is still holding steady. I assume that it stored in your desk?"

"Yes," Sirius sat on the chair behind the desk and opened the drawer, pulling out a plain silver coloured box. "We have located two, so far and have a possible lead to follow," he admitted.

"Didn't you think you should tell me?" Amelia said sternly.

"To be quite honest, I had forgotten that you had been involved in the discussions with Harry on the matter. Remus reminded me. I apologise," Sirius said.

"Well. Open it!" Amelia ordered.

"Be prepared, they feel foul,' Sirius said, flicking the latch on the box to reveal the Locket and the Diadem.

"The lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin's Locket," Amelia whispered. "Close it please."

"Correct. We have hypothesised that he has collected items of historical or personal importance." The lid was snapped back into place.

"We reached the same conclusion. We believe that there is the possibility of one being located in Gringotts and have commenced discussions with the Goblins. What is your lead?"

"As Remus was saying we started with the Graveyard where Harry was taken last year. Riddle's father is buried there. With both the Riddle mansion and another small hut in the area are warded, we believe that there might be an artefact from the Gaunts hidden there. Though we need a Parselmouth, and probably a curse breaker to assist getting us through the wards," Remus said.

"I know that there are none currently working for the Ministry. We might have to talk to the Goblins about hiring one of their Curse-breaking teams."

"I'll send a message this afternoon, Sirius nodded. "I want to get it out of the way, before the kids are finished school."

Monday saw them back in the Great Hall for their Potions OWL. Harry found himself more relaxed than he ever thought he could be in a theory exam. The practical flowed as well, even Neville and Seamus produced brews they were happy with. Though neither expected to do well enough to care the subject on to NEWT level.

"Only four exams left!" Parvati Patil said wearily as they made their way back to the common room.

"Only!" said Hermione snappishly. "I've got Arithmancy and it's probably the toughest subject there is!"

Nobody was foolish enough to snap back, so she was unable to vent her spleen on any of them and was reduced to telling of some first years for giggling too loudly in the common room. They ignored her.

"Thank you for agreeing to a meeting on such short notice Striknott," Sirius bowed to the Potter Account Manager.

"And thank you for keeping the boy in line. He is finally responding to the missives we have sent in a reasonable period of time, though of course at this time of year we understand that he is rather busy. Indeed, it seems Harry is developing quite the nose for investment." When Sirius looked at him curiously, he added, "He has received several letters from various members of the public requesting financial backing for business ventures. Each one has been sent back to me with a comment on it stating his thoughts on its viability and asking for my opinion. I have not found that we disagreed in our opinions. Thus far he has decided to support five ventures though he has made it a requirement that all of them seek financial advice from an account manager of their choice before the final go ahead is given. Potter profits look to increase by an additional ten percent."

"That is good. Thank you for being so patient with him."

"Now I assume your Godson's accounts were not why you requested this meeting."

"No," Sirius rubbed his palms down the front of his pants. "I do not wish to compromise your integrity by saying too much. However, I would like to engage the services of one of your curse breaking teams, and it needs to contain at least on Parselmouth, or be they must sufficiently trained and experienced to deal with Parselmagic."

"We will not be getting involved in this war," Striknott said sternly.

"No, this is a financial endeavour," Sirius said with a wry smile. "As it currently stands the war will drag on _forever_," Striknott's eyes widened, "which while it may prove profitable in the short term, will be financial damaging in the longterm, as I am sure you are aware. We have discovered a way of decreasing that time. I believe that Amelia Bones wishes to talk to you about a similar matter."

"Are you suggesting that one of these _things_," the Goblin said in distaste, "is hidden in this bank?"

"We believe it may be, however Amelia understands the political difficulties involved and will provide the evidence to support our claims. For myself, I believe that we have another location…"

"Can he have created so many?" Striknott asked dubiously.

"We believe he has six at this time with a seventh one already having been destroyed."

"Six!" the old Goblin gasped. "I will make enquiries, when did you require an answer?"

"I wanted to have the matter well in hand before school lets out."

"Yes, I can see why that might be," Striknott smirked. "Do you believe in the muggle concept of Karma Lord Black?"

"Harry!" Hermione called out as he sat in the common room on Wednesday afternoon.

He sighed and dropped his head to his chest.

"Hurry up, you need to get down to the Great Hall! You have your Divination exam in ten minutes. Ron left half an hour ago."

"I'm fine thanks Granger," he opened up his Arithmancy notes.

Hermione stood over him.

"Do you mind?" he snapped.

"I don't know why you persist with this Harry? What exactly do you think it's getting you?" she reached down and snatched his notes.

"Give me those back!" he made a grab for them, but she raised her wand. "Inflamarae!"

"Aguamenti!" the seventh-year prefect called out from behind her. Soaking the burning pages, extinguishing the flames.

Harry stared stunned at the soggy parchment, the ink of the words running together.

"Miss Granger," the prefect said firmly, "come this way."

"But Harry needs to…" she complained.

"I saw the whole thing. Mr Potter was sitting there studying he didn't do anything."

"He has to get to Divination; he is going to miss…."

"That is Mr Potter's decision! Now you will…"

"I will take it from here Mr Jefferies," McGonagall had approached while they had been talking. "Miss Granger?" she fixed the girl with a stern glare.

Harry watched them go, casting a drying spell on his notes, unfortunately they were ruined.

"Come on, we will study together," Percival said, he had just arrived in the common room after helping Neville review Astronomy ready for that nights practical.

"Here look at this," Remus drew out a photo Album, from inside his bag.

Opening it to the first page, there was a picture of 'Janey' standing next to a red-haired girl arms slung around each other's shoulders, grins on their faces.

Janey took the picture, running a finger delicately over the surface.

"Who is she?"

"That was Lily Evans, Marlene meet her at school, and they were pretty much inseparable after."

"There was a castle," Janey said hesitantly. "I have been thinking about things since you were last here. Remembering some things."

"Yes, Hogwarts. The first trip over it we all crossed the lake…"

"Four to a boat," she murmured.

"That's right and then Hagrid led us up the stairs and knocked on the door, where Professor McGonagall let us in, to wait for our sorting."

Reaching up a hand she touched her head as she stared into her tea, the photograph now resting on the table, "It seems strange when the photographs don't move."

Remus took a chance and turned to the back of the Album, withdrawing a photo and passing it to her. On one end, Lily stood, James behind her, arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. In the middle was Peter and next to him Remus, at the other end in a matching pose to Lily and James was Sirius with his arms around Marlene. Suddenly a single Firework, burst from behind the group, causing them to duck, Marlene then turned and swatted a madly laughing Sirius on the arm before the frame started again.

"He was named for the stars," Janey said.

"Yes, his name is Sirius," Remus nodded.

"When I think about him, it hurts my head, right here," she pointed to her temple.

"I can take you to someone who might be able to help," Remus offered, holding out his hand.

"Yes, I think I would like that," she agreed, taking his hand.

The fifth years practically tumbled back into the common room following their late night Astronomy practical. Hermione had not stopped talking the whole way back from the tower, until Parvati had hit her with a silencing spell, from behind.

"Well, well, well, the wanderers have returned," Fred said as he looked up from where he was sitting next to George and Lee, books spread out in front of them.

"How are the exams going, Ronikins?"

Ron, shrugged inelegantly, "I think I've done alright so far. How about you guys?"

"Good. We don't have so much riding on this," Fred said nonchalantly.

"Really? Why would you think that?"

"Well," George began before stopping as he noticed Hermione sitting just behind the group, "let's just say…"

"We have plans."

"That are beyond the scope…"

"Of institutionalised education…"

"And the ministry!"

"I think Sirius might want to talk to you about those plans," Harry commented.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," Harry hummed. He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, ignoring Hermione who was now thumping her foot on the floor in an attempt to be noticed.

"Come on. We had best head to bed, there are more exams tomorrow," Percival coaxed Harry to his feet, by poking him in the ribs.

Hermione could not believe her luck. She had cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and followed the boys up to their room, their heavy feet masking any sounds she might have made. Percival had tucked Harry into bed, even if she could not admit it to herself it was rather sweet, but then instead of going to bed himself, he proceeded to get ready to shower. Taking off his wand holster and wand and leaving them on his bedside table while he went about finding his pyjamas. It did not take him long to move towards the bathroom, the other boys all had their curtains pulled. It was but the work of a moment to cast a freezing charm on the holster allowing her to bypass its protective spells and to slide the wand out and slot the faux wand she had prepared back in its place. She practically skipped from the room.

Professor Dumbledore was in the common room, looking at the frozen portrait above the fireplace.

"Miss Granger," he said severely, a wave of his wand had the room warded and the other residents of the tower confined to their dormitories.

"Professor," Hermione choked in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just the exams are….so…and then Harry…. he wouldn't…. I tried, I really did. I know I shouldn't have …."

"Do you understand how far this will put our plans back? It will put my plans back. I need you there guiding him!" He made a truly intimidating figure; his power was almost palpable.

Hermione noticed his wand was drawn and lifted Percival's out in front of her like a peace offering.

"What is this?" Dumbledore paused.

"Percival's wand," she whispered.

"Well…..I think we can forgo your punishment this time," his eyes twinkled as her shoulders relaxed.

"Thank you, Sir. I am truly sorry."

"You will take steps to rectify the situation, and you should be aware that the boy's mother, knew how to hold a grudge."

Hermione collapsed into a nearby chair as the Headmaster left, her shaking limbs no longer having the strength to hold her upright had folded. Clasping her hands together Hermione bent forwards and rested her head on her knees for a moment. That had been so close, the man had only punished her the once, after she had slapped Harry in the Great Hall, but it was not an experience that she cared to revisit. After a few deep breaths she managed to get to her feet and stumble her way to her bed.

She watched the students pour in through the double doors and assume their places. Silent, heads bowed. Yes, this is how it should be. Only two hours before she could put the final steps of her plan into place.

Two hours later they spilled out of the Great Hall, like water flowing downstream and a relieved chattering spread amongst the students. Percival slung an arm over Harry's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple, causing Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones to start to giggle. They never noticed Hermione get pulled to one side by the Headmaster.

"Miss Granger, I have another task for you."

"Yes Professor."

"It is imperative that Harry go to the Department of Mysteries."

"Really Professor, why? Oh, is it something I could do instead? You know I would be only too happy to help. I've always wanted to see inside the Department of Mysteries."

He held up a hand to stop her ramblings. Why did she not just do what she was told?

"There is a room in the Department that is full of orbs. They contain every Prophecy ever made," Dumbledore intimated. "There is one made that refers to Harry and the Dark Lord. Only one of the people mentioned in the prophecy may retrieve it. It is imperative that Harry removes it before the Dark Lord can."

"Yes Professor. But aren't there defences…."

"Do you truly believe that there is anything that can prevent the Dark Lord from obtaining anything he sets his mind on?"

Hermione tilted her head considering, "When?"

"Take him tonight. I will ensure that the wards will not detect you leaving." This was of course a lie, but in truth the person that the wards were connected to would not be in the castle that evening, so it made little difference, and the illusion was maintained.

"Yes Professor. I'll try my best," Hermione said doubtful after their last interaction.

"You will not _try,_ Miss Granger. You will succeed by _any means possible_. Otherwise your last punishment will seem like a walk in the park." Stumbling across that juicy bit of information had been quite the coup. Watching the girl blanch certainly made it worthwhile as well.

"Yes Professor," Hermione dropped her head, and tucked her shaking hands behind her back. Mind already working through ideas.

When she returned to the common room, the others were already there, lounging over a pair of couches and the floor space in between. There was a bitter little twist in her chest as she watched them all enjoying themselves, feeling her exclusion for the first time.

"Ah, Harry?" Hermione said demurely.

He sat up, from where he had been lying with his head in Percival's lap.

"Co….could I speak with you a minute?" she put a little quaver into her voice.

His forehead furrowed as he considered her, "Ok."

When he joined her, she grabbed his hand and pulled him from the common room. Withdrawing her wand, she cast a silencing ward around them.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," she twisted her hands together and looked at him shyly, pushing the thoughts of what she needed to achieve from her mind.

"What exactly are you apologising for?" Harry said dubiously.

"I…." she realised that she was going to have to treat this as a real apology, not that she felt she had a lot to apologise for. After all everything she had done had been with his best interests in mind. She thought back over the arguments. "I'm sorry for striking you. It was uncalled for. I can only plead that I have been super stressed over the exams and I took it out on you."

Harry was not sure if Hermione looked apologetic, in pain or constipated, but whatever the expression was it looked like it hurt. Still he was not going to let her off easily.

"Is there anything else you would like to say?"

She was taken aback by his bluntness, what else did he want? Oh, that must have been it. "Ah, I'm also sorry I kept trying to get you to go to Divination. I just did not want you to be disadvantaged because you did not have enough subjects, but I see now that it was your decision to make."

"It is not just that Hermione," he said exasperatedly. "You didn't listen to me. I have been telling you all year that I was self-studying other subjects. I have been getting the teachers to check my work, give me work sheets and mark my assignments. I had already spoken to Professor McGonagall and received permission."

"But…." She began to protest.

"No Hermione. As you said it was my decision. As was sitting the OWLs."

"But you weren't in the Runes OWL."

"Yes, I was, but was very nearly late because I had to receive treatment after someone hit me!"

"Oh," she looked ashamed.

"Yes Oh! But I did the exam anyway to prove you wrong. When I could have just as easily booked in to do it at the ministry. Now if you have nothing else to say."

"I do…." She bit her lip, "I just don't think you are going to listen to me."

He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, "What is it?"

"I…I overheard something. I know what the Order has been up to this year! Why Mr Weasley was in the Department of Mysteries."

"That's nice Hermione, but I am sure they can take care of whatever it is," he said dismissively.

"It's a prophecy!" she squeaked out as it looked like he was about to leave.

"Since when do you believe in Divination Hermione?"

"These are in the Department of Mysteries," she said in an awed voice. "It's not like that fraud Trelawney!"

"Why do you think it has anything to do with me anyway?"

"I overheard that it's a prophecy about you and …." She looked around, despite the ward to see who was listening. The Fat Lady was snoozing against her frame. "Voldemort," she finished in an exaggerated whisper."

"Why should I care?" Harry crossed his arms and stared at her.

"Harry, he killed your parents!"

"Yeah, and he is a seventy-year-old wizard who knows a lot more spells then I do. Surely there are wizards far more qualified than I to deal with him."

"But you have an obligation to…"

"To who, Hermione? The Wizarding public? Who condemn me at the slightest chance!"

"But Harry, you can't expect them to…."

"To what, Hermione? To stand up for themselves? They outnumber the Death Eaters by at least ten to one!"

"To be brave," Hermione managed to say. "Not everyone is as brave as you!"

He just stared at her, before turning to face the portrait.

"Aren't you even a little bit curious to find out what it says?" she wheedled softly.

With a sigh, he stopped and said over his shoulder, "I'll investigate it." He left her standing in the corridor.

"What was that about?" Ron asked when he returned to couches. The girls had moved their celebrations to their dormitory, promising to return when the twins, who had gone to the kitchens, returned with supplies.

Harry allowed himself to flop back into his previous position.

"She wanted to apologise."

Ron sat up straight, looking interested, "Was she.."

"Genuine. I don't even know. She also mentioned some prophecy. Said she overheard the Order talking about it. Obviously, that's a lie. When would she have even been around anyone from the Order?"

"Not since Christmas."

"Exactly, so if she heard it then, why would she wait until now to mention anything?"

"My point exactly."

"Mirror call Sirius," Percival suggested.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. I might go and do it now so I can enjoy the party tonight."

"Do you want company?"

"Nah," Harry replied, groaning as he pulled himself back up to his feet

Not ten minutes later Harry was back, though this time he sat on the floor next to Ron and pulled out the chess set he had grabbed while in the dorm.

"Thought you might appreciate a game or two, now we've the time."

"Cheers. What did Sirius say?" Ron grinned as he began to set up his pieces.

"He said that Dad mentioned something about a Prophecy which was why they went into hiding. He's going to take me in to get it sometime over the Holidays."

Ron studied him for a moment, "What's up?"

"Nothing, I guess," Harry shrugged, an odd look on his face.

"If is causing that expression, it is worth talking about," Percival pressed.

"I just…there was a voice in the background. A….female voice."

"So?" Ron asked.

"I guess," Harry shrugged again. "I just thought he some sort of weird thing for Severus."

"Severus?!" Ron asked in surprise. "Mate I know he's been better this year, but those two argue like….well like Sirius and Snape!"

"Very helpful Ron," Percival said dryly.

Harry continued to grumble, until Percival pushed him up the stairs towards to dorm, telling him that what Sirius and Severus got up to in their own time was none of his business. He made Harry promise not to get involved.

If it were a nightclub the common room would have been said to be pumping. The seventh-year prefects had sent all the kids under fifth year to bed at a reasonable hour, and then silenced their dormitories, before coming back down to enjoy the party. Fred and George had not only snagged food from the kitchens but snuck out and wheedled a supply of Butterbeer from Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks. At ten-thirty the sixth years decided they had enough and asked for their dormitories to be silenced as well. The fifth and seventh years carried on.

Eleven-thirty came and went, and Harry still had made no move to act on his curiosity. Hermione looked around the common room and noticed for the first time that Harry was not even there! Damn, had he gone without her? He would never find the room, or the prophecy without her. Another quick scan of the room showed that Harry and Percival were the only two boys missing. Though Hermione did a quick double take when she noticed Ron sitting rather close to Parvati Patil. She added dealing with that to her list of things to do later and scurried up the stairs to the boy's dormitory.

It was empty, not that she checked the bathroom, having learnt her lesson last time. It was hard to see where anything was in the mess, but a sheet of parchment on Harry's bed caught her eye. It was just what she needed. It took her several minutes to search for her missing friend, having assumed that the two boys would have headed to the astronomy tower. They were not far away and by the look of it were heading towards the kitchens, typical boys! Hermione tucked the map under her arm determined to find them.

She practically flew down the stairs she was moving so fast and managed to catch up with them at the bottom of the Great Staircase. How was she going to do this? She needed to get Harry on his own.

"Stupefy, Stupefy!" She watched them fall. Right, what to do now? Looking around Hermione saw one of Filch's supply cupboards, and quickly levitated the older of the two boys over to it and unceremoniously shoved him in. Not noticing the map fall from her pocket. Then she returned for Harry. The Headmaster had told her that he would be out hadn't he, and she still knew the password to his office, so she levitated Harry there. The Gargoyle stood aside for the password, and with a tremulous hand on the door, Hermione pushed. It opened before her, there was no sound from within except for the snores of Headmasters and mistresses passed.

'Please let there be floo powder' Hermione muttered to herself. There was in an antique looking urn on the mantle. Rotating Harry's unconscious form, Hermione grabbed a hold of Harry's arm and felt something hard resting under his sleeve. Investigation revealed a silver coloured cuff covered in runes. Perhaps this was what Percival had been using to control Harry. Thinking she would Iook at it later she slid it off his arm and put it in her pocket. Then she took a pinch of powder from the urn, wrapped an arm around her friend and dropped the powder saying, "Ministry of Magic."

Cut –

Albus Dumbledore was happy, he held in his hands the wand that he had been wanting to study for some time. It was a powerful wand, he could tell. Just by touch. Still he needed to get it back to his office so that he could inspect it properly. Not being a Wandmaker, he did not have the skill to identify its components on sight but needed to perform a little ritual.

With a lilting spring in his step he made his way through the castle, stopping only to smile at Filch's cat. Easily avoiding the teacher's on rounds.

Opening the door to his office, he quickly pulled the wand from his pocket and 'felt' it. It did seem to have that certain….taint of Death, though there were ingredients which could replicate that. He laid it on his desk and hurriedly retrieved all the items he needed. Finally prepared he sat at his desk and…..the wand popped out of existence. No! Albus lost control over his core as fury whirled up inside him. In a feat of accidental magic the black threads seized any object in the room they could and smashing them all. Until sated they resumed their previous quiescent state.

Steepled fingers supported his chin as he thought. With a Godmother like Seraphina, the boy no doubt had a wand holster, the usual ones, prevented the wand being summoned or drawn by anyone who was not keyed into the holster. A feature easy enough to overcome. Some though, the ones the Aurors used, were also linked to the wand, and if the wand was removed then after an hour it would simply be returned to the holster. This was a lot harder to work around. Without a doubt Seraphina would have provided her beloved Godson with one of these. He doubted his protégée had even heard of them.

Albus huffed out a sigh of regret, it seemed she would have to be punished after all.

Cut – 


	28. Chapter 28

Percival groaned as he came around in the small dark place. Moving his arm elicited a crinkle of paper. A wandless Lumos bought him clarity on the situation as he realised was inside a cupboard. Casting his mind back he remembered walking with Harry down to the kitchens with an order so long that they had needed to write a list. Harry had insisted he needed the exercise rather than calling for Dobby. Then as they reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice had called out stunning him in the back. A female voice. There was ball of dread sitting like concrete in his stomach, and he tried not to think about the similarities between this situation and the last time he had been locked in an enclosed space.

"Harry."

"Alohomora," there was a satisfying click and the door swung open. Percival rolled out of the cupboard onto the floor with a groan.

"Percival!" hissed a voice.

"Harry?"

"No, it's Ron! When you didn't come back, I came looking for you."

"Where's Harry?"

"I don't know. Thought I might use the map."

"What map?"

"You know, Harry's map of Hogwarts. It shows where everyone is in the castle."

"Handy. Where is it?"

"Harry looked at it before you left so it might be on his bed. Here let me help you up."

Percival's foot hit something and slid out from underneath him.

"Hold on a sec," Ron muttered drawing his wand, "Lumos." Ron bent over and snagged something off the floor. "Huh, Hermione must have had it."

The pair scanned the page.

"They're not here," Percival said surely.

"No. But where could she have taken him?"

"The Ministry," Percival suggested. "Let's go tell Snape and try and call Sirius, they might have some ideas."

"Stop that infernal hammering," Snape griped as he opened the door to his rooms.

"Sorry Sir," Ron said respectfully.

"Whatever is the matter Weasley."

"Harry is missing."

"I cannot keep an eye on the blasted boy every moment of the day!"

"You misunderstand, Sir," Percival said. "Harry and I were on the way to the kitchens, when I was stunned from behind. I came round in a cupboard."

"When Harry and Percival didn't come back, I headed out to find them, and found Percival on the ground floor," Ron added.

"Do you recognised who stunned you?"

"No. But they were female."

"How long were you unconscious for?"

Percival turned to Ron, who said, "It would be a guess but maybe an hour and a half, no more than two."

"Well you had best come in I suppose," Snape said grudgingly. "I'll floo the mutt."

Snape called for a house elf to bring tea, while he went and knelt in front of his fireplace.

"Sirius, it seems we have a problem."

Percival and Ron sat quietly while they waited for the whispered conversation to be over. FInally Snape stood up, dusting off his knees.

"You two are to go back up to bed. Sirius and I will deal with this, it will take some …..delicacy."

"But," Ron protested.

"No, all we know is that this is a trap, not who set it or for whom it has been laid."

"I must go with you," Percival insisted seriously enough that it caused Snape to pause.

"Come on we've wasted enough time, Harry needs us," Ron said insistently.

"Ron, just… You need to go back to the common room. They already know Harry is missing. What do think will happen if the twins get it into their heads to go after him? Or Neville? For all we know there will be Death Eaters waiting there, and while you and the twins are very talented, you are not yet ready to take them on. I will take no-one into battle with me who…"

"There will be no battle," Snape said from behind them. "And you, Mr Graves will be returning to the common room as well."

"Ron, go and let everyone know that Professor Snape has the situation under control, he will notify the other Professors so that if back up is required they will assist."

"Alright, just…" Ron turned to his least liked professor. "You're a spy right Sir? You can't go either. If Riddle has not called you to attend and you show up then it will raise further doubts to your loyalties."

"Thank you for that assessment, Mr Weasley. I will ensure that I am not seen."

"Do you think Harry would mind?" Ron asked Percival obtusely.

"I think that …"

"I will be fine. Now go."

Ron left quickly but Percival remained behind.

"I believe I said you were not coming Mr Graves."

"Sir, I need to go. I am his shield. To protect him I need to be near him. There is more but,,,,"

"Show me!"

"I…." There was a whispered acquiescence in Percival's mind. "Ok Sir."

"Legilimens."

In his haste the intrusion was not gentle. Severus was transported a room that was the strangest juxtaposition between bare prison and feasting throne room. Cold stone walls, covered in moss, surrounding a fully laden table. Two other beings were in the room with a much older Percival. One of them made the breath catch in his throat, her red hair and green eyes unmistakable, but there was something wrong about the image and Severus understood that it was not her.

_The man spoke, "I have decided that I am giving you as a gift to my favoured. He needs someone that will always be on his side, who will teach him and care for him. It doesn't matter which universe we are talking about; the Headmaster just won't do it. The Godfather might step up but will need a kick in the right direction. And his friends don't have the experience. You, however, will do perfectly."_

_"And if I don't want to go?" Percival raised an eyebrow, trying to stare down the immortal, as if he were one of the newly graduated Aurors straight from the academy._

_ "__WE. ARE. GODS. CHILD." Death suddenly dropped the charade. His eyes glowed blue with the knowledge of eons, a cold blast of power radiated from him drowning Percival in the smothering sensation. _

Even in the memory Severus could feel the emanating power.

_Magic's eyes began to glow too. "The Magical World has stagnated. They have lost their way and are losing their connection with me. Already feats of magic that were commonplace in your time are near legend. You. Are. Needed. If I am to survive on this world. And without me the world will fall. Gone will be the wonder of a child, love, hope, happiness, all will be lost," the sound of her voice reverberated in his chest. "Would you give up this second life? This chance to save and change the world, to protect it from harm!"_

_And that sealed his fate, Percival needed no time to consider the question. He already knew his answer. It was written into the foundations of his very soul. It was, more than anything, the reason he had chosen to become an Auror in the first place. The need to protect. To fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. "I will protect him," he agreed._

Severus tumbled out of the memory; he could only stare at the boy in front of him.

"You are not named after him, you are him!" he whispered.

"Yes."

"Does the mutt know?"

"No, only Harry and Sera."

"I do not suppose I can convince you to stay?" Snape said sourly.

"No," agreed Percival.

"Be prepared for the mutt to argue."

"Yes Sir."

"The password is Asphodel," Severus said offering Percival the floo powder.

As the Headmaster's floo, spat Hermione out into the foyer of the Ministry of Magic, she lost her grip on Harry and he slid along the floor on his face, coming to rest with his head nearly against the Fountain.

With a sigh, she rolled him over, "Episkey." She fixed his broken nose, feeling grateful that his head had not hit base of the fountain as she did not know any spells to cure concussion.

"Ok," Hermione mumbled, "Where to now?" Levitating Harry once more as she moved towards the lifts she never spared a thought for the Security desk that stood empty.

After reading the little plaque on the wall Hermione pressed the nearest 'down' button and a lift clattered into sight almost immediately, the golden grilles slid apart with a great echoing clanking and she stepped inside. Harry's head rested against the back wall, and feet towards the doors. Hermione quickly pressed the number nine button; the grilles closed with a bang (it was lucky that Harry was short) and the lift began to descend, jangling and rattling. Eventually the lift halted, and a cool female voice said, "Department of Mysteries," the grilles slid open.

Hermione floated Harry out into a corridor where nothing was moving but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift. She wondered if she should re-innervate Harry now. Would he argue, when he was so close to the item, he was curious about? Probably. Best if she left him as he was for the time being then, he just might need a little something to ….encourage him to her way of thinking. Quickly she lowered him to the floor and placed a suggestibility compulsion on him. It was not perfect, but it would be good enough to make him at least listen to her favourably. She elevated Harry once more.

Directly ahead was a plain black door it swung open as she approached.

Hermione stepped over the threshold, into a large circular room. Everything in here was black including the floor and ceiling; identical, unmarked, handle-less black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue; their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor made it look as though there was dark water underfoot.

Not knowing which door, she need Hermione began crossing the room. With a slam the door shut behind them, blocking out the light from the hall. There was a great rumbling noise and the candles began to move sideways. The circular room was rotating. For a few seconds, as Hermione's heart beat faster in alarm, the blue flames around them blurred to resemble neon lines as the wall sped around; then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped, and everything became stationary again.

After a pause trying to determine which door was the one, she had come through, Hermione gave up and walked straight towards the door in front of her. It swung open easily.

Following the darkness of the first room, the lamps hanging low on the golden chains from the ceiling gave the impression that this long rectangular room was much brighter. The place was quite empty except for a few desks and in the very middle of the room, an enormous glass tank of deep green liquid, big enough for Hermione to swim in; a number of pearly-white objects were drifting around lazily in it.

Hermione could not help moving over to look, leaving Harry hovering by the door, "Brains!" she muttered. "This isn't right." She backed up towards the door, moving through it first and floating Harry after her.

No sooner had the door clicked shut than there was another great rumbling, and once again the wall began to revolve very fast. When it stopped Hermione cursed the fact that levitating Harry had meant she had her wand free to mark which door they had been through. With no better options she opened the door that was now in front of her.

This room was larger than the last, dimly lit and rectangular and the centre of it was sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet deep. She was standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre. There was a raised stone dais in the centre of the pit on which stood a stone archway that looked so cracked and crumbling that it was amazing that it was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched. The room held the strange feeling of being watched as though there was someone just out of sight waiting to speak or…..

Hermione backed out of this room too. Once more, the wall spun and became still. This time Hermione pushed a door at random, it was locked. With a groan, she lowered Harry to the floor, pointed her wand at the place where a keyhole should have been and said "Alohomora." When it still failed to open, Hermione moved on.

The next room she tried was filled with a sparkling light. It drew her in. As her eyes became accustomed to the glare, she noticed clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The sources of the dancing, diamond-bright light was a towering crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room. Fascinated Hermione was enticed further into the room. This had to be the right path.

She paused to peer into the very heart of the bell jar. Drifting along on a sparkling current inside was a tiny, jewel bright egg. As it rose in the jar, it cracked open and a humming-bird emerged. It's tiny shining silver and gold wings beat against the air drifts which carried it to the very top of the jar, but as it fell on the draught its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg. It would have been so easy to become lost watching the endless cycles, but Hermione knew she must keep moving, so she turned away and moved to the door at the far end of the room.

It swung open easily. Peering into the room beyond Hermione smiled, this was surely the place. High as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, the flames, burnt blue. The room was very cold.

A groan sounded behind her, and Hermione turned to see Harry, opening his eyes as he the stunning spell wore off. With a scowl on his face, he struggled against her levitation charms, which released with a snap, sending him tumbling the few feet to the ground.

"Bloody Hell! Hermione, what in blazes is going on?" He looked around, "Where the hell are we?"

"The Department of Mysteries, this is the room where they keep all the prophecies."

"How do I get out of here?" he demanded as he stood, looking around for the closest exit.

"But you're so close Harry, you may as well just get the prophecy while you are here," Hermione said reasonably.

"Hermione, this is not right. You've broken into the Ministry of Magic, for what?"Harry questioned in agitation. "No reason. Sirius was going to bring me. He had already called the Face of the Unspeakable's and made an appointment," he tried to appeal to her sense of logic. "Let's just go, before we are caught."

Hermione snatched up his hand and dragged him into the shelves, "Look it must be around here somewhere. You may as well get it while you are here now and then we can go. Alright?"

Harry pulled back on her hand, but she gripped him like a barnacle on a whale, leading him past the rows. Stepping between two shelves she said, "They are dated see. The one you want is from 1980. Ah, here we are."

Harry read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date some sixteen years previously, and below that:

_S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D_

_Dark Lord_

_and (?) Harry Potter_

Harry stared at it, his hand rising of its own accord to lift it from the shelf. It was an action he immediately regretted.

"Why in Magic's good name, would you bring one of the children with you?" Sirius demanded of Snape the moment they were out of the floo.

"It was necessary."

"Sirius?" a soft feminine voice called from further in the house. "What's all the noise about?"

"It's nothing Marl….Janey. Go back to bed."

"Visitors?" sneered Severus. "I suppose at least you waited to continue your affairs until the boys were at school.

"My affairs? Severus, I…."

"It is no business of mine," Snape sniffed.

"I…haven't it's just…"

"Don't bother, mutt!"

"No," Sirius, reached out and grabbed hold of Severus' forearm. "She is here waiting for Poppy to treat her."

"You do not need to explain anything to me," Snape huffed a little less coldly. "Perhaps we should focus on that damnably wretched boy."

"Severus, don't talk about Harry that way."

"I think she has taken him to the Ministry," Percival said, calmly trying to break through the rising tensions.

"What makes you think that?"

"Hermione cornered him after our last exam. He said she gave him an apology and then she mentioned that there was a prophecy."

"When he called me," Sirius agreed, "he mentioned she seemed very keen for him to go and collect it immediately, though he thought she had accepted it when he said that he would deal with it. I'll send another message to Algernon Croaker and let him know what is going on. At least that way if they are found in there he'll cover for them."

"The question is who wants him to get the prophecy and why? Do we really think that Dumbledore would send her there with him? It just…doesn't seem right. Would he use Harry as bait to draw out Riddle?"

"Mooney!" Sirius called out, after he had sent his Patronus.

The werewolf popped his head round the corner a moment later, as he said "Could you keep the noise down, Marl…Janey is trying to get some sleep." He then noticed who was in the room and entered fully. "All right what is going on?"

"Harry is missing, we believe that Hermione has taken him to the Ministry, to get the prophecy."

"Who is on guard duty tonight?"

There was a quick exchange of glances, "No one. Arthur and Molly came down with the wizarding flu and there was no-one available to take their place."

"No guard on duty and Harry taken to get a prophecy that only he or Riddle can touch. I guess we go prepared for anything then," Percival said.

"You are not coming!" Sirius stared at the boy. "Harry would never forgive me if anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself either. You can stay and here in case Marlene needs anything."

"That was your fiancee?!" Severus growled. "I thought she…"

"Ex-fiancee and she has had amnesia for the last fifteen years. We are supposed to call her Janey," Sirius started to explain.

Again, there was a standoff, of stares.

"Look it's a long story Se…Snape." Sirius sighed. "We will fill you in once Harry is safe. Percival stay."

"No. And you should call more members of the Order," Percival said obstinately.

"Already done," Remus said putting his wand away. "I have sent messages to Tonks, Shack and Hestia. They'll met us here. Have you notified your Godmother?"

With the wave of a hand a message was sent. Moments later the reply came, "Be careful Percival. I trust you to know your limits, I'll advise Amelia."

Sirius stared at the fading silver mist, "We'll wait ten minutes for the others to arrive. Se…Snape, you cannot be seen just in case it is a trap. What are you planning on doing?"

"I will be fine," Snape replied stubbornly.

"Please…I …Like I said to Percival Harry would be very upset if something were to happen to you," Sirius pleaded, not mentioning how he, himself would feel.

"What's going on?" the soft voice was back. This time, she was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking vulnerable and worried, a quilted dressing gown over her long night dress, hair loose and long.

It was Remus that responded to reassure her, "There has been a ….small problem, we are going to sort it out. It isn't something you need to worry about. If you need something and we are not here, call for Kreacher."

The dark-haired woman was staring at Snape, "I know you." She walked closer to him, inspecting his face. "Snivellus!" She hissed turning to Sirius, "How can you trust him in your house, you know what he is….what he…."

"Ma…Janey, he is not like that anymore. People grow up and change. I did, and so did Severus."

"You call him by his name? You always called him Sniv…."

"I was wrong to do so," Sirius said sombrely.

"I feel like I don't even know you anymore. I remember things and now …."

"I know, I have changed," Sirius said softly. "Remus, how about you take Janey upstairs. You might need to stay."

The werewolf nodded and lead the dark-haired woman from the room, she kept looking back over her shoulder glaring at Severus. Sirius ran a hand through his hair, and turned to Severus. Whatever he was going to say was pushed aside as the floo flashed green, and Tonks tumbled out in her usual inelegant fashion, followed quickly by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who emerged in a much more dignified fashion.

"Hestia will meet us there," Shacklebolt said. "The alarms in the Ministry foyer were turned off, allegedly for Maintenance at 11. So, we should be able to floo in, if not I can get us in through the muggle entrance. The nightwatch password is 'formidable'."

"Alright, we believe they will be in the Department of Mysteries, hopefully Algernon Croaker will meet us there, though I have not had a reply from him as yet. Be careful, all we know is that this is likely to be a trap."

They each grabbed a pinch of floo powder and left the building. Severus Snape was the last.

He had expected the orb to feel cold, but id did not. On the contrary it felt as though it had been sitting in the sun for hours, as though the glow of light within was warming it. He squeezed it wondering if he should smash it immediately.

And then from right behind him, a drawling voice spoke.

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Harry's stomach sank through the floor as for a moment he wondered if Hermione had become a Death Eater. Her gasp of surprise disabused him of that notion. Whatever she had been expecting to occur it was not to have Lucius Malfoy standing there hand extended demanding the orb.

"Why should I?" Harry demanded.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, somewhat stupidly Harry thought.

Malfoy chuckled and a feminine sing song voice from his left mimicked, "Where's Dumbledore?"

She and their fellow Death Eaters had closed in so that they were only feet away, the lights of their wands dazzling Harry's eyes.

"The professor said…."

"The professor said…" she mimicked again and then laughed. "The baby mudblood got twickeded, and thought that what the Headmaster said was twoooo," she continued in a horrible, mock baby voice. Harry felt Hermione flinch beside him.

"Don't do anything," Harry muttered to Hermione, "Not yet –"

"You hear him? You hear him? He followed her here, like a little lost lamb and now he's giving her orders as though he thinks of fighting us?"

A flick of his wand behind his back had a patronus sent, low to the ground off to find Sirius. If they could just keep them talking until help arrived, they might stand a chance.

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix," said Malfoy softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. _Now give me the prophecy, Potter_."

"I still don't see why I should," Harry threw the small ball up in the air.

"Accio Prophecy!" Malfoy cried.

But with the unerring hands of a seeker, Harry swiped it out of the air as it moved towards the man, "Yeah, your son isn't quick enough to catch the snitch ahead of me either. I still want to know why Riddle wants this little crystal ball?"

"Shut up you're making them angry Harry," Hermione pleaded in a whisper. "Just give them the ball and they'll let us go."

The Death Eaters who were close enough to hear just laughed.

"Help is coming," Harry muttered back surely, to another round of laughs. "Dobby," Harry tried calling the House Elf.

"Ah, Potter, I had heard you needed to open a book, but let me be the one to inform you, the Ministry is one of the few places that is warded against House Elves. It is time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter. No-one is coming to help you. No-one knows you are here. You have no friends here, you're on your own," said Malfoy. "Now give up the prophecy, or we start using wands."

"Go on, then," said Harry, raising his own wand to chest height. As he did so Hermione's wand raised in concert, he was her only chance to get out of there. The knot in Harry's stomach tightened.

But the Death Eaters did not strike.

"Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt," said Malfoy coolly.

It was Harry's turn to laugh.

"Yeah, right!" he said. "I give you this – prophecy," he held it up between two fingers, "and you'll just let us skip off home, will you? I'm sure that is why you all laughed before when Hermione suggested it. Seems to me you want this little ball more than I do. How about I just smash it?"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the female Death Eater shrieked, "Accio Prophecy."

Harry was just ready for her: he shouted "Protego," before she finished her spell and he managed to hang on it with his two fingers.

"Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter," she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. "Very well then –" her wand came up again.

"I TOLD YOU, NO!" Lucius Malfoy roared at the woman. "We should have bought Umbridge instead, at least she follows orders. If you smash it - "

Harry's mind was racing, Hermione had been truthful in one thing, Riddle desperately wanted this orb. On top of that Umbridge was most likely a Death Eater, which admittedly was not a great surprise. Smashing the orb was beginning to seem like a better and better idea or tossing it and making the Death Eaters chase after it to give them time to escape, though with the number of them, there were plenty to catch the orb while others prevented Harry and Hermione's escape.

The woman stepped forward away from her fellows and pulled off her hood. Though Azkaban had hollowed Bellatrix Lestrange's face, making it gaunt and skull like, there was still a shocking similarity to Andromeda's, that had Harry gasping.

Eyes alight and feverish with a fanatical glow, chest rising and falling rapidly, she said, "You need more persuasion? Very well, take the girl. Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

Despite everything that had happened they had been friends once and Harry stepped in front of Hermione, the prophecy held up to his chest.

"You'll have to smash this if you want her," he told Bellatrix. "I don't think your boss would be too pleased if you come back without it, would he?"

She did not move; she merely stared at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth.

"So," said Harry, "what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?"

It was not much but it kept Bellatrix talking, and every moment was one more since Sirius had received the message, one moment closer to help arriving.

"What kind of prophecy?" repeated Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. "You jest, Harry Potter."

"Nope, not jesting. I actually pulled out of Divination, so I've got no idea," Harry said, his eyes flicking from Death Eater to Death Eater, looking for a weak link, a space through which they could escape or possibly the one who was going to fire off the first curse. "How come Voldemort wants it?"

Several Death Eaters let out low hisses.

"You dare speak his name?" whispered Bellatrix.

"Yeah," said Harry elongating the word as if she were slow of understanding. "It would not be much of a name, if you couldn't call him by it, now would it? I've got no problem saying Vol - "

"Shut your mouth!" Bellatrix shrieked. "You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare – "

"Did you know he's a half-blood too?" Harry said conversationally. Hermione gave a little moan in his ear. "Clearly Voldemort is not his real name. I mean what sort of name is that? It's obviously made up. His real name is Tom Riddle, did you know? I've never heard of a pure-blood family with the surname Riddle, have you? That's because his Dad was a muggle. Oh," Harry looked at her in faux surprise, "has he been telling you lot that he's a pure-blood?"

"STUPEF- " Harry raised the sphere like a shield.

"NO!"

A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but Malfoy had deflected it (Harry thought that if they got out of this alive, he was going to work on being able to do that); his spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs were shattered.

Two figures, pearly-white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurled themselves from the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and each began to speak; their voices vied with each other so that only a fragment of what they were saying could be heard over Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts.

"…..at the solstice will come a new…." Said the figure of an old, bearded man.

"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"

"He dared – he dares – " shrieked Bellatrix incoherently, "he stands there – filthy half-blood – "

"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" bawled Malfoy.

"…. And none will come after…" said the figure of a young woman.

Harry used the distraction caused by Malfoy and Lestrange's argument, to slide the prophecy into his wand holster. Trusting the anti-summoning charms to keep it safe.

The two figures that had burst from the shattered spheres had melted into thin air. Nothing remained of them or their erstwhile homes but fragments of glass on the floor. They had, however, given Harry an idea. The problem was going to be conveying it to Hermione.

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," he said. Transferring his weight onto one leg he moved his other foot slowly backwards feeling for Hermione's.

"Do not play games with us, Potter," said Malfoy.

"I'm not playing games. Pulled out of Divination remember," said Harry, half his mind on the conversation, half on his wandering foot. When finally, he found Hermione's toes he pressed down on them eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

"What?" she whispered, trying not to move her lips.

"Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowls of the Department of Mysteries? Malfoy sneered.

"I- what?" said Harry, wondering if this had something to do with the Horcrux. Really with all the secrets that Dumbledore kept, it was hardly surprising that he had not mentioned anything. Not that they had spoken in the past year. "What about my scar?"

"What?" whispered Hermione more urgently from behind him.

"Can this be?" said Malfoy in malicious delight, some of the Death Eaters were laughing again and under the cover of their laughter, Harry hissed, moving his lips as little as possible, "Smash shelves – "

"Dumbledore never told you?" Malfoy repeated. "The Dark Lord wondered why you had not made an attempt to retrieve it earlier – "

"- when I say now – "

"He thought that natural curiosity would have made you want to hear the exact wording…."

"Did he?" said Harry, thinking that twelve months ago, Riddle would have probably been right. "So, he wanted me to come and get it? Did he? Why?" Still stalling for time. Maybe his patronus had not had enough power to make it to Sirius but Percival would have regained consciousness by now and he would have called for help.

"Why?" Malfoy sounded incredulously delighted. "Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him."

"And why would he want to steal a prophecy about me?"

"About both of you, Potter, about both of you….haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?"

Harry stared at the slitted eye-holes through which Malfoy's grey eyes were gleaming. Was the prophecy the reason why Harry's parents had died, the reason he carried his lightning bolt scar?

"Not really, I don't make it a habit of trying to understand Psychopathic mass murderers. So, someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me and instead of sneaking in here to get it himself, something that must have been inherently easy given that you lot are all here and there are no alarms going off as yet, he thought he would arrange to have me tricked into being here?" Harry said gazing at Lucius Malfoy. "Why didn't he come and get it himself?"

"Get it himself?" shrieked Bellatrix. Over a cackle of mad laughter. "The Dark Lord, walk through the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time, running around in the dark?"

"So, he's lazy then, and he has got you to do his dirty work for him, has he?" said Harry. "Now!"

He cast a silent Reducto first at the nearest shelves, and then a second at the floor just in front of the nearest Death Eater, causing the floor to burst up into the man's face forcing him to back away. Harry was relieved to hear Hermione scream, "REDUCTO!" and to see her beam of light strike the shelves causing them to explode; the towering structures swayed as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurled into the air and floated there, their voices echoing from who knew what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and ran as the shelves swayed precariously and more spheres began to fall from above. A Death Eater lunged forwards through the cloud of dust and Harry elbowed him hard in the masked face, not blinking his nose made as the mask was pushed into it. They were all yelling, there were cries of pain and thunderous crashes as the shelves collapsed upon themselves, weirdly echoing fragments of the Seers unleashed from their spheres -

Harry found the way ahead clear, and threw a few stunning spells back over his shoulder, hoping to hit anything. As he felt a hand grip his shoulder, he sent a quick Diffodio in that direction and the hand released. They had reached the end of the row now, and with Hermione's hand still gripped tightly in his own he began to sprint in earnest. Straight ahead, the door through which they had come was ajar; Harry could see the glittering light of the bell jar; he pelted through the doorway, dragged Hermione through after him and slammed the door shut.

"Colloportus!" gasped Hermione and the door sealed itself with an odd squelching noise.

Footsteps echoed from behind the door they had just sealed; Harry put his ear close to the door to listen and heard Lucius Malfoy roar, "Leave Nott,_ leave him, I say_\- his injuries will be nothing to the Dark Lord compared to losing the prophecy. Jugson come back here, we need to organise! We'll split into pairs and search, and don't forget, be gentle with Potter until we've got the prophesy, you can kill the Mudblood if necessary – Bellatrix, Rudolphus, you take the left; Crabbe, Rabastan, go right – Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead – Macnair and Avery, through here - Rookwood, over there – Mulciber come with me!"

"What do we do?" Hermione asked Harry, trembling from head to foot.

"Well we don't stand here waiting for them to find us for a start," said Harry. "Let's get away from this door."

They ran as quietly as they could, past the shimmering bell jar where the tiny egg was hatching and unhatching, towards the exit into the circular hallway at the far end of the room. They were almost there when Harry heard something large and heavy collide with the door Hermione had charmed shut.

"Stand aside!" said a rough voice. "Alohomora!"

As the door flew open, Harry and Hermione dived under desks. They could see the bottom of the two Death Eater's robes drawing nearer, their feet moving rapidly.

"They might have run straight through to the hall," said the rough voice.

"Check under the desks," said another.

Harry saw the knees of the Death Eater bend; poking his wand out from under the desk, he cast another stunning spell.

A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater, he fell backwards into a grandfather cloak and knocked it over; the second Death Eater alerted by the light of the spell had leapt aside to avoid Harry's second spell and was pointing his own wand at Hermione, who was crawling out from under the desk to get a better aim.

"Avada…"

"Rictusempra," Harry said without thinking, causing the Death Eater to fall to the floor clutching his sides. "Expelliarmus." Harry caught the wand as it came flying at him, and quickly snapped it across his knee.

"Stupefy," Hermione finally managed to cast as Harry charged out of the room, grabbing her by the hand as he passed. "Let's get out of – "

"Look out," said Hermione as they burst into the round entry room and it spun. There were two Death Eaters already in the room.

"Stupefy!" Hermione shouted.

"Bombarda," Harry said. Both spells struck true, the Death Eater Harry hit, flew through the air, and straight through the door, back into the glittering room and into the Bell jar, where his head began shrinking very fast, growing balder and balder, the black hair and stubble retracting into his skull; his cheeks becoming smooth, his skull round and covered with a peach like fuzz…

A baby's head now sat grotesquely on top of the thick muscled neck of the Death Eater as he struggled to get up again, but even as they watched, their mouths open, the head began to sell to its previous proportions again, thick black hair was sprouting from the pate and chin….

"It's Time," said Hermione in an awestruck voice. "Time…. "

The Death Eater shook his ugly head again, trying to clear it, but before he could pull himself together it began to shrink back to babyhood once more…

Harry flicked his wand shutting the door, causing the room to spin again.

"Which way is out Hermione?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she admitted, sounding close to tears. "When I came in, I wasn't able to mark them."

Harry groaned, marked the door ahead of him with a luminescent cross, and opened it…

Just as a door behind them opened, allowing Lucius Malfoy and Mulciber into the room, Harry ducked through the door. Slamming it closed running across the tops of the seats to the other side. Hermione was not as quick as he was and was still only halfway around when the door burst open.

"We've got him!" yelled the Death Eater. "In the…"

"Silencio," Harry cried out and the man's voice was extinguished as Harry turned his wand on the other, casting another Bombarda, the man hit the wall with a sickening crack. The Death Eater Harry had struck dumb made a slashing movement with his wand; a streak of what looked like purple flame passed, through the shield Harry had hastily thrown up and right across Hermione's chest. She gave a tiny 'Oh!' as though in surprise and crumpled on to the floor where she lay motionless.

"Hermione!"

A stupefy had the man falling as Harry hurried back, falling beside Hermione on his knees. Carefully picking her up Harry wondered if he would have more luck finding an exit if he returned to the round room. He had just made his decision when the door when it opened to reveal three Death Eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange.

"They are here," she shrieked. And Harry quickly sort the only cover in the room, the plinth supporting an ancient archway.

He tucked Hermione behind it, quickly using his wand to inscribe runes into the plinth, it was not much however it would provide a little protection. A slow step sounded at the doorway, as Lucius Malfoy entered the room, followed by more of the Death Eaters.

"Potter your race is run," drawled Lucius Malfoy, pulling off his mask, "Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy."

"Let Hermione go, and I'll give it to you," Harry pleaded knowing it was a long shot, and not like she could move anyway. If only he had some way of getting her out. The wardbuster! Why hadn't he thought of it before? Relief coursing through him he grabbed hold of Hermione's arm, and put his other hand onto the cuff…that was not there! His stomach dropped like a stone and he nearly sobbed.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," said Lucius Malfoy, his pale face flushed with pleasure. "You see, there are ten of us and only one of you…..or hasn't.."

"Good to see you can count, Malfoy," Harry spat. Hermione gave a moan beside him, trusting to his wards he leant out from the platform slightly and cast blasting spells on either end of the Death Eaters, who had started to try and circle around him, hitting one of them on the arm.

"Crucio," Bellatrix yelled, just clipping his arm as he ducked back behind the arch. He managed to keep moving out of the spells path.

Hermione's eyes were open now.

"That was just a taster," said Bellatrix, raising her wand and stopping the spell, seemingly disappointed by the lack of screaming. "Now Potter either give us the prophecy or watch your little friend die the hard way."

Harry leaned over Hermione to shoot off a couple of spells, hitting the Death Eater on the end with a cutting spell, across the top of his shoulder. Hermione was testing the movement in her limbs groggily. He was considering throwing the orb at them to buy a few more seconds when two doors burst open and six more people burst into the room; Sirius, Percival, Tonks, Kingsley, Moody and Hestia Jones.

Malfoy turned, and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a stunning spell right at him. The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the Order of the Phoenix, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step towards the sunken floor.

The stone floor between Harry and Hermione had exploded, as Harry's ward was overloaded, leaving behind a crater where Harry's hand been only seconds before; both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Harry around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor.

"Give it to me," growled a voice in his ear, "give me the prophecy – "

The man was pressing so tightly on Harry's windpipe that he could not breathe. Through watering eyes he saw Sirius duelling with a Death Eater some ten feet away; Kingsley was fighting two at once; Tonks still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down on Bellatrix – nobody seemed to realise that Harry was dying. He turned his wand backwards towards the man's side, but with no breath left had to resort to trying an unpractised spell wordlessly, Relashio. It worked enough that the hand on him released, and he ducked avoiding the following attempt to grab him. Then Percival was there, his spell taking the Death Eater in the face. He froze, and then cracked lines appeared all over his face as if he had been turned to stone.

"I think that improved his looks," Harry gasped out.

"It's not permanent," Percival said pulling Harry aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, duelling so fiercely that their wands were blurs; then Harry's foot made contact with something round and hard and he slipped. For a moment he thought the prophecy had fallen from his holster but then he saw Moody's magical eye spinning away across the floor, he quickly scooped it up, looking around for its owner.

Moody was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down on Harry and Percival: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted in glee.

"Tarantallegra!" he shouted, pointing his wand at Percival not checking to see the boy step out of the way. "Now Potter – "

"He made the same slashing movement that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, "Protego!"

Harry lent back, turning his face to the side and felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife; the force of it still knocked him sideways into Percival, even with his shield blocking some of it.

Dolohov, raised his wand again, "Accio Prophe – "

"Expelliarmus," Percival said. As his wand flew through the air Dolohov merely pulled a spare from out of his sleeve pointing it again at Harry.

Sirius hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder and sent him flying out of the way. Now Sirius and Dolohov were duelling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand tips –

Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Harry and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together, and he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back.

"Nice one!" shouted Sirius, as all three of them ducked to avoid a pair of stunning spells sent towards them. "Now I want you pair to get out of here – "

They ducked again; a jet of green light narrowly missed Sirius. Across the room Harry saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat and Bellatrix triumphant, running back towards the fray.

"Harry grab Hermione and run. Percival will watch your back," Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Harry did not see what happened next; Kingsley swayed across his field of vision, battling with the pockmarked and no longer masked Rookwood; another jet of green light flew over Harry's head as he launched himself towards Hermione.

"Can you stand?" he bellowed in her ear. "Put your arm around my neck – " he heaved her to her feet.

"Give me the prophecy, Potter!" sneered Lucius Malfoy's voice near his ear, as he felt the tip of Malfoy's wand pressing hard between his ribs, he wondered where Percival had gone. There was a grunt and Malfoy crumbled Percival's elbow meeting with the side of Malfoy's head.

MacNair, now without an opponent, raised his wand on Harry, but Hestia jumped between them.

"Go, Harry, just go!"

Harry hauled Hermione up the stone steps, making slow progress as spells took the stones out from under their feet.

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione cried, as her weight dragged him to the floor.

"It doesn't matter," Harry shouted. "Just try and stand, let's get out of – "

"Dumbledore!" said Hermione.

Harry turned to look where Hermione was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face furious.

Dumbledore speed past Harry, Percival and Hermione, who was now pulling against Harry, when the nearest Death Eaters realised Dumbledore was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line –

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

"Come on you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous space.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest, the trajectory of his fall would take him straight into the veil.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Harry released Hermione, though he was unaware of doing so. He pulled his wand preparing to jump to the ground, but Percival, wrapped his arms around him and physically lifted him into the air, carrying him up the steps and away from the fight. As Bellatrix turned and pased them running from the room.

Harry did not see Sirius fall in a gracefully arc, nor the shimmer in the air as someone's invisibility cloak, opened slightly as they sprang towards the man tackling him, their weight carrying both sideways and away from the plinth holding the arch with its ragged veil. He only heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream echoing up the corridor and he pulled free of Percival's arms. Running off, following the hem of Bellatrix's robes as they whipped out of sight, and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming.

She aimed a curse over her shoulder, that split the contents of the tank all over the floor. Harry fired a Bombarda back, which she dodged, cackling insanely. Seemingly delight with the chase.

Finally, they made it back into the round room with all of the doors, but Bellatrix had beat him there and was gone by the time he entered.

Once more, he was surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra.

"Where's the exit?" Harry shouted desperately, as the wall rumbled to a halt again. "Where's the way out?"

The room seemed to have been waiting for him to ask. The door right behind him flew open and the corridor stretched towards the lifts, torch-lit and empty. Harry ran….

He could hear the lift clattering ahead, he sprinted up the passageway swung round the corner and slammed his fist on the button to call a second lift. It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grilles slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering the button marked Atrium. Percival slid into the lift as the doors shut.

"Harry," he said softly as he wrapped his arms around Harry, who fought against the comfort. "You need to know…"

"What? Sirius is dead. My only family just died! My dad….."

"No, shush and listen. Severus was there, under an invisibility cloak. I am sure he would have summoned…."

"You can not summon living things!" Harry snapped.

"No but, you can summon their clothes," Percival said pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead as the lift rattled to a stop, "and Severus is awfully clever."

"You think?"

"I do not know, but don't lose yourself to anger just yet."

They stepped from the lift, seeing Bellatrix almost at the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as they moved towards her and aimed another spell at Harry. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren: the spell zoomed past him and hit the wrought-gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. There were no more footsteps. She had stopped running. Harry and Percival crouched behind the statues, listening.

"Come out, come out, wittle Hawwy!" she called in her mock baby voice, which echoed off the polished wooden floors. "What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!"

"I am!" shouted Harry, in order to keep her talking, and a score of ghostly Harrys seemed to chorus _I am! I am! I am! _All around the room. Surely with Dumbledore's presence the Order would not be too much longer.

"Aaaah…did you _love_ him, little baby Potter?"

Harry darted around the edge of the fountain, "Bombarda!"

The spell hit her a glancing blow to shoulder. Causing her to spin and fall to the floor, but she was quickly on her feet. Her counter- spell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor and showering Harry and Percival with shards of masonry.

A footstep sounded on the floor and Percival hurriedly forced Harry to move around the fountain, when she screamed "Crucio!" and Percival pushed his head down again as the centaur's arm, holding its bow, spun off and landed with a crash a short distance from the golden wizard's head.

"Potter, you cannot win against me!" she cried.

They could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot. She did not seem to register Percival as a threat. He pushed Harry around the statue away from her.

"I was and am the Dark Lords most loyal servant. I learned Dark Arts from…."

Percival had silenced her! Harry's stunning spell caused her to cast a shield, moving so fast that he barely had time to duck out of the way of the rebounding spell. They did not see her dispel herself of the Silencing charm.

"Potter I am going to give you one chance!" shouted Bellatrix.

Suddenly deep in Harry's brain a warning sounded, pain spread from the site, quicker than he would have believed. His hiss of agony distracted Percival who automatically turned to Harry.

"Give me the prophecy – roll it towards me now – and I may spare your life!"

Focussing inwardly on the image of a pearl-white figure rising from the shattered remains of an orb, Harry said "Well you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Pain seared across his forehead; his scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected from his own emotions. "And he knows!" Harry gave a mad laugh, struggling against the internal force. "Tom Riddle knows it is gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"What? What do you mean?" she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

"The prophecy was smashed! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that?" he filled his mind with the image of smoke broken glass and mystical voices.

His scar seared and burned…. only Percival's cool hands on his cheeks, grounded his sanity.

"LIAR!" she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME! _Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!_"

Harry clutched hold of Percival's hands and tried to open his eyes though the tears blinded him. A green jet of light came flying towards them and took the ear off the statue of the goblin.

"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED – DO NOT PUNISH ME –"

"Don't waste your breath," Harry ground out, swiping away his tears, as the warning bells stopped and the pain retreated. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" said a high cold voice.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stared fearfully into Percival's eyes, realising the risk they now faced. "What do we do? We can't kill him," he whispered. "We don't have all…"

Percival gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

Tall, thin and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes staring….Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who crouched frozen, quite unable to move, Percival at his side.

"So, you smashed my prophecy," said Voldemort softly staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes, ignoring the second boy. "No Bella, he is not lying…I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind…..months of effort and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again…."

"Master I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort's feet as he paced slowly nearer. "Master you should know –"

"Be quiet, Bella," said Voldemort dangerously. "I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your snivelling apologies?"

"But Master – he is here – he is below –"

Voldemort paid no attention.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me far too often, far too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry's mind was blank as if hypnotised, his wand held loosely in his hand, pointing towards the floor, but the Head of the golden wizard flew into the air bursting with the force of the spell.

"What?" cried Voldemort, seeming to notice Percival for the first time as Percival pushed Harry, to the other side of the fountain. "Who are you?"

"Graves," Percival said standing firmly.

"It matters not, worm!" Voldemort sent another spell flying towards Harry. This time the Centaur sprang from the fountain, acting as a shield. The spell ricochetting of the golden chest.

With a swish of his wand, Percival sent the shards of debris from the floor towards the older wizard. Voldemort sent his green jet of light, towards Percival this time, but Percival merely apparated away. He landed behind Voldemort as the statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor, arms and legs akimbo, wand out of reach. Meanwhile the goblin, the house-elf and the centaur scuttled towards the fireplaces set along the wall and the decapitated wizard ran to shield Harry.

Voldemort turned with a hiss and spat another killing curse towards Percival. He dodged to one side causing it to hit the security-guards desk, which burst into flame. Percival flicked his wand; the force of the spell emanating from it was such that even though Harry was shielded by his headless guard, he felt his hair stand on end as it passed, and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it.

"You do not seek to kill me? Just like Dumbledore, are you one of his?" Voldemort asked. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"I would not say that, more I only do what needs to be done," Percival said grimly as with a flourish he with a wave sent another spell towards his opponent, who seemed disorientated for a moment, and took a step backwards, though still maintained his shield. Harry wanted nothing more than to stand beside Percival in the fight, but his headless guard kept shunting him backwards towards the wall, blocking his every attempt to get out from behind it.

Another jet of green light flew from behind the silver shield. This time a block of stone conjured seemingly out of nothing, flew into its path, and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before they had even hit the floor, Percival had drawn back his wand and flicked it again. A long thin flame flew from its tip; wrapped itself around Voldemort shield and all. Voldemort hissed and the flame began to transform into a snake, only to morph back into a rope of light. Snake and Flame merged in a seemingly never-ending cycle, as the two fought.

Pounding feet came from the lifts as those who had been below finally emerged, Albus Dumbledore and Hermione leading the charge.

Finally settling on a rope of flames.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A final jet of green light struck the bound wizard. His body dissolving into black smoke, robe falling to the floor empty.

"Master!" screamed Bellatrix, finally getting fingers to her wand, swinging her arm around, she summoned her master's to her, disintegrated her statue guard and disappeared into the floo.

The there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been. The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them.

Harry moved around the headless wizard who was now motionless and ran to Percival, who was standing stunned at the midway between the pile of robes on the floor and the place where Hermione still stood with her wand extended.

"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at the pile of robes. "I saw him Minister Scrimgeour!"

"I know Williamson, I know. I saw him too!" Scrimgeour seemed to pull himself together. "And these marvellous children have bought him to his knees. Apparently the threat was not all that great after all. Eh, Dumbledore? He was beaten by mere children."

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Rufus," said Dumbledore walking forwards so that the newcomers realised he was there. "You will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparition jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"First you must explain what you and your …..students are doing in the Ministry so late at night?"

"Rufus, I am ready to fight your men," Dumbledore said in a low voice. "A few minutes ago you saw…"

"I saw one of your students fighting a man, and another casting the killing curse…."

"Voldemort…."

"I don't…well.." blustered Scrimgeour, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well - Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see…. Dumbledore you will need to tell me exactly - the Fountain of the Magical Brethren - what happened?" he added hoarsely staring at the floor, where the remains of the statues now lay scattered.

"Perce," hissed Harry. "We need to get out of here before they can…."

"We'll give our memories to Amelia Bones," Percival agreed, putting a hand over his cuff.

"We can discuss that after I have sent the children…" Dumbledore was saying.

"Home safe."

Percival and Harry both fell to the floor in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

Harry could hold it in no longer and he let out a wounded scream of anguish.

"Harry, hush. Harry every thing will be ok," a third person had joined them on the floor.

"No!" Harry sobbed. "Sirius is gone! It will never be ok again. He….he never knew how I felt like he was my Dad! Now he's gone!"

"You felt like he was your Dad?" the voice asked softly, a firm hand rubbing Harry's back.

"Yeah, I never told him. He…I….we were going to live here. I was going to have a real home? Where will I go now?"

"Shhhh, you'll stay here, just like we planned," the voice reassured.

It made Harry so angry that someone was thinking he could live here, when the whole house would just remind him of Sirius at every turn. It still smelt like him!

"Harry," Percival's voice coaxed, from somewhere near his ear.

Harry just tried to bury his face further into his boyfriends shoulder, sobbing wildly.

"Come on Harry. I need you to wipe away the tears and open your eyes for me," the bastard sounded vaguely amused. There was nothing funny about losing Sirius! "Come on, trust me. It won't seem so bad….."

"How can it not seem so bad," Harry retorted fiercely opening his eyes to glare at Percival.

"Harry," the voice said again.

Green eyes turned in the direction of the voice to glare death upon the speaker. They blinked, and then blinked again registering, who it was that sat beside them on the floor.

"Sirius," Harry screamed and threw himself bodily at the man, arms wrapping tightly around that thin neck.

"I'm here, Harry. I'm ok."

"You nearly weren't, you stupid mutt! Joking with Bellatrix, it would have served you right if I had let you fall through the veil!" a sour voice behind them sniffed, clearly Severus was deeply upset with Sirius.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Sirius said contritely.

Snape did not say another word, and turned away from the undignified group on the floor.

Eventually Harry allowed Sirius to move enough that the group could relocate to the table and Kreacher provided them with tea.

"What happened?" Harry asked quietly.

"Fortunately when Bellatrix stunned him, I …"

"Mooney said you sprang onto the dais and pulled me to safety. My knight in shining armour!" Sirius said, Snape turned away with slightly pink stained cheeks.

"I'm sure the wolf exaggerates."

"I came round lying on the floor besides the arch. The others were still fighting though with Dumbledore," he looked over at Severus curiously. "When did the cloak fall off."

"It got summoned away as you fell," he admitted.

"So they know," Harry whispered. "If any of them escaped then he will know too."

"Yes."

"Do we know who was captured?"

"Not as yet, though there were only five bodies," Sirius said.

"Then at least five escaped," Harry said. "You….. you aren't safe! What will you do?"

"I will go back to Hogwarts," Severus said simply.

"But he will try and make you continue….."

"No. Stay he….." Sirius began to offer.

"I must at least return to the school to finish out the year. Then I am at the mercy of Dumbledore's wishes. He vouched for me after the last war. If he were to remove his support. I could not say what would happen."

"We would get you out of the Country and you could seek asylum in the US," Percival said firmly. "I will talk to Aunt Sera about it. The ICW would surely be able to hold a proper trial for you, with Harry's memories, you at least will be free everywhere outside of Britain."

"We also need to talk to her and Madame Bones about what happened tonight," Harry reminded him.

"When you return to the school, let Dumbledore know that Harry and Percival, will not be back this year. Their exams are done, and I am pulling them out now. I am sure Sera will agree."

Severus nodded and stood ready to move to the fireplace, but Sirius sprang to his feet and stood in his way.

"Severus," his arms raised awkwardly as though he were about to grab hold of the Potions Master, before falling to his side. "I….thank you," he rasped out feeling the inadequacy of the statement.

Harry who had stood to the join him, merely stepped in, pushing Sirius to the side, wrapped his arms around Snape's waist and hugged him firmly. Then he leaned back slightly to look into the black eyes, "Thank you, it means…..everything to me!" he clasped the man again.

Severus stared wide-eyed at Sirius, for a moment, before he placed one arm around the boy's shoulder and the other came to hold Harry's head to his chest. "You are welcome," he said bending over the boy's head.

cut -

_The Girl-Who-Conquered_

_While the ex- President of MACUSA and Current Ambassador for the United States of America's Godson (He-Who-Battled) engaged He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Hermione Granger (The-Girl-Who-Conquered) was securing the Department of Mysteries with her Mentor Albus Dumbledore, against an incursion of alleged Death Eaters. She arrived at the site of the battle in time to cast the spell which lead to the demise of the most evil Wizard since Gellert Grindlewald, saving us all._

_Why did these two children find it necessary to fight against the Death Eaters when they hould have been safely tucked up in their beds at Hogwarts? Albus Dumbledore was attending an ICW meeting earlier that evening and advises he arrived at the site as soon as he was notified of the confrontation but, where were the Aurors and UnSpeakables? What was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named searching for in the Department of Mysteries? Does it matter post his demise? We, the public, need these questions answered. Neither the Head of the Auror Department, nor the Minister of Magic has been unavailable for comment, but as soon as Rufus Scrimgeour is available, the Daily Prophet will be pressing for answers._

\- Cut -

So that is the end of the first Arc. The next (currently will be called Shield) has about half a chapter written, and should begin to be posted in a week or two. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, favourited and followed.

First chapter of the continuation now posted. 'Shield'


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